


new lovers are nervous and tender

by ijustmightwing



Series: i'm coming home (tell the world) [5]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Has Entered the Chat, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasizing, Jerry Is THAT Guy, M/M, Minor Oliver Queen, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Oral Sex, Organized Crime, Past Drug Addiction, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Selina Kyle, Recreational Drug Use, Repressed Memories, Rimming, Self-Indulgent, Selina Kyle Has Arrived, Technology Probably Doesn't Work Like This, schrodinger's virginity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:15:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28992024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijustmightwing/pseuds/ijustmightwing
Summary: “Usually you have the fastest response time on the team,” Bruce rumbled, matter-of-fact.“Oh my god,” Jason sighed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Well, I don’t run around dressed as a traffic light with a gaggle of super humans so I’m less noticeable than the others.”Jason and Roy come to Gotham.  Roy learns about what it takes to be a crime lord while Jason struggles to reintegrate into the Batfamily.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Roy Harper/Jason Todd, Selina Kyle & Jason Todd
Series: i'm coming home (tell the world) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073099
Comments: 93
Kudos: 232





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaand...we're back! This story is part of a series and by now, I'm afraid, you'll probably need to read the other parts to know what's going on. I like to think I've gotten mildly better at formatting, but this is still a story written by an old lady who doesn't understand AO3 or HTML very well, apologies all around. Please let me know if there are any glaring mistakes and I will fix them to the best of my abilities!
> 
> This piece takes place in a weird space between the end of RHA & Batman Rebirth. Honestly, I'm prioritizing my own indulgence at this time so everything's pretty off the rails timeline-wise. We're now officially in headcanon vs canon vs fanon, ThunderDome-style. 
> 
> Please see the series page for a complete list of warnings/tags.

**"New lovers are nervous and tender, but smash everything. For the heart is an organ of fire."**

****

****

**\- The English Patient**

///

Jason stared up at the two whiteboards in front of him, tapping the end of a dry erase marker against his teeth as he collected his thoughts.

Returning to Gotham meant diving back into the black market headfirst and checking up on his current underground networks. There were always new players, always new cons, and always someone begging to get their teeth knocked out. The whiteboards before him were covered in notes, pictures, anything that Jason found interesting. 

Jerry, who ran things for him when he was away, called it his “serial killer” board. 

“It’s only a serial killer board if someone dies. Well, more than two,” Jason had pointed out. 

Jerry was a retired docks worker and had less hair than Jason had fingers. He was a bit of a pothead, but Jerry had lasted within Gotham’s seedy underbelly for over forty years on more than luck. He was a smaller Latino man, tattooed and potbellied with a well-maintained goatee and a hearty laugh. Jerry was good for keeping new kids in line and old friends still friendly.

Right now, Jerry was filling Jason in on the shifting tides surrounding the Red Hood’s territory via iPad. Jason had only been in town three days and didn’t like to meet face-to-face with any key player until he’d set the board. 

“Tell me more about Ryker Heights,” Jason said, absently chewing on his marker. “Do we have anyone on the ground?”

When Jerry didn’t answer immediately Jason turned to look at his own tablet on the table behind him. He was met with the sight of a thick treasure trail of dark hair over a round belly. He heard a distant, tinny sound of a voice offscreen.

Jason sighed, hearing the telltale burble of a bong in the background.

“Jerry. Jerry, put the iPad back on the desk,” Jason tried. 

Jerry wasn’t the best with technology. 

“Can you--hey, Jerry! Can you hear me?”

Jerry’s belly button loomed closer, than the screen turned dark. Jason could still hear Jerry’s distorted mumbling. He walked over to the tablet and ended the call, giving it up as a lost cause. He sent Jerry a text, telling him they would reconvene in the morning. He also checked Roy’s flight status and saw that his plane was on time. A thrill of anticipation licked up his spine and Jason smiled down at the screen.

It had been four days since they’d parted. After destroying the warehouses in Nebraska they’d had to hightail it to the airport. Jason had split off to handle Tara in D.C. before heading to Gotham. Roy had headed back to California to dismantle their headquarters before swinging up to Star City to see family for the holidays, then over to New York where his actual apartment was. Jason wasn’t sure if he was planning on keeping it, hadn’t wanted to ask. The idea of Roy moving, really moving, to Gotham for him seemed too dangerous to handle.

Instead, Jason had buried himself in establishing his territory once again. This was a new safehouse, one he’d picked out with Roy in mind. He’d settled on another warehouse so Roy would have space to work and train. Archery required a certain level of square footage that was hard to come by in Gotham. It had a functioning locker room on the main level as well, perfect for storing gear and showering off the blood and dirt that followed Jason home every night. The upper level covered only half the space and contained renovated offices that Jason easily transformed into a living space. He hadn’t found time to furnish it entirely yet, and the kitchen set up was laughable, but Jason hoped Roy liked it.

He’d spent the better part of the day debating on whether he should bring in a second bed at the last minute. Jason hadn’t initially planned on it, hadn’t even considered it, and when the realization had sunk in he’d been paralyzed for a good three minutes. Eventually practicality won out over hope, and he’d rushed out to buy a mattress and boxspring.

(Hope won out a little - he left both packages downstairs. If Roy wanted his own bedroom he was going to have to help carry everything up the stairs.)

Jason’s phone went off, and he heard the crackle of his earpiece on the desk. Frowning, Jason took the earpiece and checked his messages--a set of coordinates and a timestamp stared up at him in blue. Jason knew the location, an old church in the Bowery that had an impressive stable of gargoyles.

Clearly, Bruce was feeling sentimental.

Jason pocketed the phone, trying to decide what to do as he smothered his reflexive apprehension. He considered not showing up--he’d probably missed more meetings than he’d made in the past. He didn’t know why Bruce wanted to meet face-to-face. He’d been in contact with him since his feet had hit the tarmac, the two of them ironing out the logistics of Red Hood’s return to Gotham.

The rules were almost always the same. They both kept to a tentative treaty--Jason ran his territory and crew the way he saw fit, cultivating leads and handing off to Bruce when necessary. If Jason or one of his guys wandered strayed too far into the darkness, the gloves came off and they became Batman’s problem.

So far, Jason hadn’t had to deliver any of his men to Bruce, because he’d gotten to them first. 

All in all, it was a good arrangement. Jason handled the uglier, more bloody sides of being Red Hood alone and kept his people safe, paid even, though not always legitimately. Jason didn’t give a fuck about that. The big benefit was that Jason was left alone save for when he got called in for backup patrols, working only with Bruce when serious shit was starting to go down.

This didn’t feel like serious shit going down, which only made him more nervous.

Jason rubbed a hand against the back of his head, taking a deep breath as he decided. He shoved his feet in a pair of nearby boots and snagged only a red domino before taking off. It wasn’t quite time for the Red Hood’s full debut.

Jason breathed deep as he vaulted up to the warehouse roof, taking in the bracing winter air. Gotham always smelled oily with pollution and salty from the nearby harbor. There was always a hint of something else underneath it though, this warm, restless scent Jason could never quite place. He supposed that’s what people meant when they said something smelled like home. 

Gotham was his home. For better, or worse. There was something comforting in his ability to fly across these rooftops, to remember the catches and jump points of familiar buildings. 

Down here in the Narrows everyone sounded like him when they spoke, careless with their consonants and aggressively direct. He’d lost most of his accent by now, something that had started out deliberately and then faded the longer he was away and the more languages he consumed. He could feel the words calling to him though, could almost feel his tongue and lips shifting the more conversations he overheard. It was one of the things that made Gotham feel so inescapable.

Jason arrived at the church a few minutes past the deadline. He peeked inside the building first, checking for potential danger and also not trusting that Bruce could resist lurking dramatically near the altar. The church was empty, a few tealights in the darkness giving color to the large stained glass windows along the walls.

He grappled up to the roof, touching down gently beside an old friend. 

Jason reached out, rubbing a hand affectionately over the back of the gargoyle’s head like it was a loyal dog.

“Hello there,” he told it. Jason wasn’t great at names, rarely bothered with them. When he’d first been on patrol as Robin this church had been his usual stop between busts. He’d been small enough to fit under the gargoyle’s wing back then, safe from snow and rain, mostly hidden from sight. He’d wanted to name the gargoyle Hugo back then, thinking he was clever, and then scrapped the idea angrily after Dick forced him to watch Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame and realized his brilliant thought wasn’t an original one.

Naming things, giving them importance, those were things you shouldn’t do down in the Narrows. Jason had forgotten.

He still visited the gargoyle though. It was good to be reminded.

“Hello,” came Bruce’s voice. He didn’t sound like Batman, although he was dressed like him, stepping out of the shadows with all his looming menace, cape melting into the darkness.

“You know, you could’ve picked a closer location,” Jason complained, straightening to face him. The cowl was still cast in shadow so he couldn’t make out Bruce’s expression _._

“Usually you have the fastest response time on the team,” Bruce rumbled, matter-of-fact.

“Oh my god,” Jason sighed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Well, I don’t run around dressed as a traffic light with a gaggle of super humans so I’m less noticeable than the others.”

Bruce didn’t rise to the bait, in typical Bruce fashion. He just stood there, stoic and silent. It made Jason insane, like he had ants crawling under his skin. It was one of the oldest tactics in the book and it worked on him every damn time.

“You missed Christmas.”

“I told you, I was snowed in in fucking Nebraska,” Jason said, crossing his arms over his chest, head cocked to the side.

“I’m sorry. I meant, you haven’t been h--to the Cave yet.”

“I told you, I’m not set up yet. It takes time to get infrastructure in place,” Jason replied, defensive. Bruce’s mouth thinned into an expression of displeasure, which only stoked his anger. “I’m not gonna be of much use to you until I get that up and running, alright? Christ, I gave you a timeline, what more do you want?”

“Jason,” Bruce said, and this time his tone was much gentler. 

Jason held still, muscles coiling like a snake as Bruce crossed the distance between them. His hands were on his cowl, gloves pushing it back until the handsome, chiseled cheekbones of Bruce Wayne glinted in the moonlight. Bruce looked well-rested, his light blue eyes lacking their usual shadow. He was even clean-shaven.

“What’re you doing?” Jason whispered, glancing around nervously for anyone watching.

“I’m trying to tell my son I’d like him to stop by the house, but apparently I’m not doing a very good job,” Bruce said, rueful, like he wasn’t sweeping Jason’s feet out from under him. 

“Right,” Jason said, relaxing slightly. He lifted up a finger and touched the side of his domino, lenses turning clear. 

Bruce held out his hand. Jason took it after a moment. His chest ached a little as he watched Bruce’s eyes skate over his face, like he was trying to memorize every piece of it down to an eyelash. Even now, Bruce looked at him like he’d never see him again.

Hesitantly, Jason leaned in and gave Bruce a quick, one-armed hug as they shook hands. He smelled of tea and kevlar, and Jason had that stirring sense of _home_ in his nostrils once again.

Bruce looked a little more human when they pulled back, nearly looking pleased. Jason hated the way it made him feel like he’d done something right, could feel how his shoulders were beginning to droop as he let down his guard.

“Needed to drag me out here in the dead of night just for that?” Jason asked, without heat, a small smile on his own face.

“Not just for that, no,” Bruce said. He stepped to the side, revealing a greasy paper bag near the ledge bracketed by a pair of styrofoam cups. “I also brought Batburger.”

“You should’ve led with that,” Jason replied, deadpan.

Bruce’s lip curled, acknowledging the option. He sat down with Jason on the edge of the rooftop, paper bag between them. Bruce put the cowl back on as they ate, but kept his body language relaxed. Jason hadn’t had a chance to visit a Batburger since he’d returned. The branding was dumb, but he loved the jokerized fries, cramming them into his mouth by the handful.

“Who won the snowball fight?” he asked after he’d eaten his fill, watching Bruce daintily nibble at what had to be the world’s worst salad. 

Bruce’s lips quirked in the smallest of smiles. “Selina.”

Jason grimaced. 

He’d forgotten that this year was Selina’s first Christmas with the family. Her and Bruce had run hot and cold over the years, but over the last few months something had shifted between them. They’d become more real to each other somehow, whatever it was between them oddly tangible in a way those around them couldn’t help but notice. Bruce was a topic Selina and Jason had always considered off-limits, but he suspected that time was quickly coming to an end.

“Good for her. They should know who they’re dealing with,” Jason commented, proud.

Bruce allowed himself a full smile. “I don’t think that’s possible, not even for me.”

“Smart man,” Jason said, the conversation trailing off into silence as they stared out into the night. Jason braced his hands behind him, leaning back to look over at Bruce, letting his legs swing gently in the open air. “You know, you didn’t need to set up all this just to talk to me. I was worried there was something more urgent.”

“Can’t really hang out on rooftops with the Red Hood as myself,” Bruce said lightly. 

“Hmm,” Jason said, looking down at his knees, parsing Bruce’s words. “Are you saying we should hang out as ourselves?”

Bruce turned to look at him. “I _would_ like that, but it’s not up to me.”

“Right,” Jason said, sitting up and running a hand along the back of his neck.

He knew what Bruce was asking. Once Jason had agreed to work with the family a plan had been put in place to resurrect poor Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne’s long thought dead adopted son. Between Tim and Barbara his identity had been restored, all of it as legitimately as the situation would allow. Jason Todd had apparently survived the terrorist attack in Ethiopia, but with a grievously bad head wound that had resulted in a severe amnesia. 

Bruce Wayne, one of the most powerful men in the world, had cried openly on the Manor steps as he’d embraced Jason in front of a dozen cameras, praising God for the return of his prodigal son.

It had easily been one of the worst, most awkward weeks of Jason’s life. His debut had been all the media could talk about until Two-Face tried to blow up the mayor again, and then Jason Todd had quietly faded into obscurity once more, tales of PTSD and long sabbaticals in Europe floated to the press as necessary. 

If it wasn’t all so close to the truth, Jason didn’t know how anyone would believe something so fantastical. But then again, Wonder Woman came from a magical island full of Amazons lost to time, and the closest thing any of them would get to Bruce Wayne’s benevolent God came in the shape of a bespectacled Kansas farmer. 

And honestly, the story of a rich boy beating the odds barely made news in a city like Gotham.

Jason made a mental reminder to check Jason Todd’s Instagram. He suspected it was run by a combination of Tim and Stephanie. Last time he’d checked he’d been enjoying the hell out of Greece and working on a literature degree, which meant a Bat-op had probably gone tits up near Athens and someone had needed the excuse of visiting the most tragic of the Wayne family.

“I’ll think about it,” was all Jason would offer, not enjoying the idea of being hounded by the press. However, there were doors that opened for the son of Bruce Wayne. Also, he could then pull stunts like asking Bruce for expensive cars in public and visiting Tim at work which always freaked him out.

“That’s not the only reason I asked you out here,” Bruce said after a while, gathering up their trash and depositing it into a bag he produced from his belt. Never one to leave a trace of DNA, Bruce.

Jason closed his eyes as Bruce spoke, trying to ignore how his stomach bottomed out with disappointment. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised, that he shouldn’t have expected a conversation without a cost, no matter what Bruce said.

“What is it?” he asked, moving to stand. Bruce stood with him, obviously catching Jason’s change in mood. 

“I told you I’d play by the old rules as long as you stay out of my business,” Jason said when Bruce didn’t answer immediately. “Does that not stand?”

“It does,” Bruce said, looking pained. Bruce tapped a screen that appeared over his gauntlet. Jason watched a line of text shimmer in against the shadows cast by the nearby gargoyles, trying to get a read on what he was seeing.

“Roy Harper lands in Gotham in thirty minutes. I want to know what he’s doing here,” Bruce said, pulling up an image of Roy’s boarding pass. Jason scowled, caught off-guard. 

“Whatever he wants, I suspect,” Jason said, immediately cagey. 

The thought of Roy now came with the memory of what Roy tasted like, how he felt, and fear shot through him like a lightning bolt at the idea of Bruce knowing. Roy was private, he was Jason’s, and he found that he didn’t want to share.

“What, I can’t have a friend stop by? It’s _Arsenal_ , he’s a Titan for crying out loud.”

Bruce seemed unmoved, but he always seemed that way. Jason had a suspicion he was searching for something in his expression and screwed up a snarl.

“Look, let me guess, you’re mad about Cale-Anderson, that’s what this really is about. What, did your stocks take a hit?” he accused, opting for deflection. He lifted his chin high, every inch of his posture defiant.

“A heads-up would have been nice,” Bruce said smoothly, the first hint of Batman’s authoritative tone in his voice.

Jason scoffed, and Bruce glared at him in the way he only did when he was about to lecture.

“You two leaked information that incriminated some very dangerous, very high-level people. In the government, no less. Those people are now facing some hard consequences and will want revenge,” he continued. Bruce stepped closer, reaching out to grasp Jason by the arm. 

“I can handle it,” Jason said hotly, twisting away from Bruce’s touch. “I heard even Amanda Waller’s in the hot seat, some of those precious convictions might get overturned and she’ll lose her suicide squad.”

“Don’t call it that,” Bruce snapped, starting to look irritated which meant he looked exactly the same.

Jason laughed hollowly. “You’re right, it’s a human rights violation, actually, but god forbid you think about that since half those people are there because of you.”

Jason watched the hit land, saw the small twitch in Bruce’s jaw. They stood there, sizing each other up. Jason flexed his fingers, trying to keep his hands from curling into fists.

“I need to know if you or Harper are planning on painting even larger targets on your backs while you’re in my city,” Bruce said, sounding like he was chewing glass. Jason felt a petty thrill at the sound of it. 

“Your city, go fuck yourself. This is my city too,” Jason spat. “Born and buried here, even.”

Bruce’s face went white under the cowl, and then he moved. Jason swore as two hands grabbed him by the shoulders as he was knocked back, held tightly in Bruce’s grip. Bruce was still taller than him, and it only took him a second to pull him to his toes and make him off-balanced. Jason tried to kick out, rage blooming inside him as Bruce blocked him effortlessly. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Bruce growled, face inches from Jason’s own. Pain shot through Jason as Bruce dug in his fingertips to keep his hold, both hands hot irons across his biceps.

Furious, Jason yelled wordlessy at him, straining to break free. Bruce shook him by the shoulders once, twice, three times. Jason’s head jerked sharply side-to-side, rattling his brain. The strength of it was violent and oddly desperate, almost shocking Jason into submission. He was used to Batman and the Red Hood squaring off, not this weird, painful near embrace.

“I’m not afraid,” Jason declared, trying uselessly to break the hold. Bruce blocked, then shook him again, like he was an unruly animal. The shaking made his head hurt, the stars above him spinning in his field of vision. 

“I’m trying to say I’m worried, Jason,” Bruce said, waiting for Jason to stop thrashing. Once he did, Bruce relaxed his grip, hands sliding down to squeeze Jason’s arms just above his elbows.

Anger and shame swirled inside Jason’s head, making him feel light-headed. He shut his eyes as a wave of nausea washed over him.

“Your precious city will be fine, I can handle it,” he hissed, breathing heavily through his nose as he rallied. “And fuck you for thinking I can’t.”

“That’s not--”

“Get off me,” Jason interrupted, an edge of desperation in his voice. If Bruce didn’t let him go they were going to really fight this time. “We’re done.”

Bruce’s hands vanished from his arms, the hot, kevlar-heavy scent of the Bat giving way to cold December air as he retreated. Jason stumbled momentarily as he found his balance, glaring up at him. He felt humiliated.

“This is not how I wanted this to go,” Bruce said, but Jason could hear the resignation in his voice, envisioning the doors of the Manor closing one at a time, leaving Bruce behind, safe in his study. Batman was all that was left on the rooftop now.

“Whatever,” Jason muttered, not meeting Bruce’s eyes. “Good to see you too, old man,” he said.

He didn’t wait for Bruce to respond. Instead he gave the gargoyle one last look, and leaped.

+

Three hours and five would-be-muggings later, Jason made his way back to the safehouse. He was still turning the conversation with Bruce over in his mind, the fury burned out of him as his adrenaline waned. He was caught somewhere between wounded and regretful, trying to parse out the things Bruce had tried to say, imagining all the ways he could have handled it better. 

It was the sight of the lights inside that brought him to the present--someone was in his safehouse, and that someone was Roy. 

Jason nearly ran the last block.

He let himself in on the ground floor. It was past three a.m. and it occurred to Jason at the last minute that Roy might be asleep. He made quick work of his gear, stripping down to only his undershirt and pants. Too eager to shower, he dunked his head under the tap and gave his bruised knuckles a quick rinse before he headed upstairs.

Jason was still brushing a few wet strands out of his eyes as he rounded the first corner. Sitting on a rolling office chair was Roy Harper, staring up at Jason’s white boards with a thoughtful look on his face. He looked even more tired than he’d been five days ago, dark bruises under his eyes. His red hair was piled messily on top of his head and Jason recognized the green hoodie around Roy’s shoulders as one of his own. The sight of it made something inside him squirm.

Roy turned to look at him as Jason entered the room. He had a jar of peanut butter between his legs and a spoon in his hand. Jason cocked an eyebrow at the sight. Roy gave him a tired smile and popped a spoonful of peanut butter into his mouth.

“Seriously?” Jason asked, fighting back a smile.

“Seriously,” Roy replied, voice thick as he swallowed. He shrugged. “Thought I heard someone downstairs. This is a pretty neat place, Jaybird.”

“You didn’t fuck up my security, did you?” Jason asked, covering for the pride he felt at the compliment. 

“Excuse you, I had to Uber here after you stood me up at the airport,” Roy retorted, immediately ruining Jason’s mood. Jason froze momentarily, a guilty expression on his face. 

“Sorry.”

Roy stood up, setting the peanut butter aside before stretching. “It’s alright. Batstuff, I presume. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

Jason followed the long arch of Roy’s spine with his eyes, moving in closer. Roy caught his look.

“Anything I should know about?” Roy asked, cocking his head to the side as he tried to analyze Jason’s expression. It made the bun on top of his head flop sideways. 

Jason was so relieved to see him.

“You look ridiculous,” he said, and closed the gap between them. 

Jason placed a gentle hand at the back of Roy’s neck, tilting his head up ever-so-slightly so their lips could meet. He kissed him chastely, loving the firm press of Roy’s mouth against his. He could feel something in Roy settling as he moved closer, could feel Roy’s lips spreading into a smile underneath his own. Jason slid his other hand underneath the pilfered hoodie, reveling in the warmth of Roy’s bare skin against the palm of his hand. 

It was as if the fight with Bruce hadn’t happened, the last few hours of anger and violence and confusion negated entirely. Jason always felt such surety when Roy was around, secure in his thoughts, his intentions. Roy always understood, was always on his side, even when he didn’t agree with him. Especially when he didn’t agree with him.

Jason had never known that to be possible.

“It was Bruce,” Jason confessed, pulling back to look Roy in the eye. “He wanted to know what you were doing here.”

“And what am I doing here?” Roy asked, looking mildly dazed, but happy. He didn’t seem shocked that Batman had been asking about him, instead he seemed to be considering the question with more seriousness than Jason anticipated.

“Whatever you want. And then I told him to fuck off,” Jason said, and now there was an edge in his voice. Roy didn’t seem bothered by it, smiling up at him.

“Good for you,” he said, and then Jason had to kiss him again. Roy chuckled into his mouth, then gasped as Jason broke off to kiss his jawline, his throat. Roy tasted earthy and sour, clearly unshowered from his multiple flights and Jason found he couldn’t care less.

“And to think,” Roy said, pulling away so he could look Jason in the face, “I was waiting up for you to give you some sort of out.”

“Out?” Jason asked, puzzled.

Roy looked pained, a blush spreading over his nose and cheeks. When Roy was embarrassed he went red from the eyeballs down. It was endearing if only in that hardly anything embarrassed Roy Harper.

“I thought, because I’m clearly an idiot,” Roy explained, “That maybe this wasn’t what was going to happen.”

Jason waited for indignation to rise up in him, for doubt. Neither came. Instead he watched Roy’s face, saw the slightest hint of nerves there. He thought about the way Roy had seemed relieved when he’d kissed him moments ago, settled somehow.

“You’re clearly an idiot,” Jason said slowly, and what he’d intended as a playful tone sounded awfully sincere. He watched the blush on Roy’s face spread down through his neck and something in him ached. 

“Roy, there’s only one bed,” he said softly, ducking his head a little to look up at Roy through his lashes, clearly trying to make a point.

Roy stared at him. Jason felt his own flash of nervousness.

“I mean, technically, I did buy a second m--”

Jason was cut off as Roy swooped in, kissing him deeply as if he could eat the words Jason was trying to say. Jason moaned, feeling Roy’s strong arms wrap around him, giving way to Roy’s insistent tongue as it pushed past his lips. His mind went pleasantly blank, overloaded with the taste and sensation of Roy against him, inside him. This, _this,_ is what he’d been missing, been needing, and he nearly staggered from the comfort of it.

“I know, I know,” Roy was muttering as he pulled back, graciously kissing him each time Jason chased his lips. It didn’t make sense and it made perfect sense. Roy ran a hand down Jason’s neck, his side, like he was gentling a horse. There was something perfectly lazy in both of them, exhaustion mixing with comfort.

Jason straightened, catching his breath. “I’m glad you like the safehouse,” he said.

Roy smiled, laughing a little as they pulled apart. “It’s not all I like,” he said, ignoring Jason’s eye roll. He gestured to the whiteboards. “For example, this Beautiful Mind aesthetic is really doing it for me. Very Katie Porter.”

“Fuck off,” Jason said, without heat.

“Seriously, what language are you even using on these? Is this weird Batcode I have to learn now?”

“It’s Latin, asshole. Mostly.”

Roy snorted. “Don’t hire any Catholics.”

“I do it to keep my skills sharp and it’s good practice in case they survive a fire,” Jason said, eyes narrowing.

“A fire?”

“If the safehouse is compromised.”

“Of course,” Roy said, burying his face in his hands. “Fucking _Bats.”_

“You say that a lot,” Jason pointed out.

“I think that a lot,” Roy replied.

Jason laughed. There was something about the gentle sniping that helped reassure a worry he hadn’t even known he’d had. It was a conversation they’d had a million times, playful and dumb. That hadn’t changed anything fundamental, whatever they were becoming, that easy bickering hadn’t left them.

Roy smiled at Jason’s laughter, he always did, but his smile gave way to a wide yawn. Jason leaned in, gently brushing his lips to each of his eyelids. 

“Bed,” he said, finishing with a firm kiss to Roy’s mouth. 

Roy didn’t fight him, hardly made much of a sound as Jason walked them both to the converted bedroom on the far side of the upper level. It was nice to be trusted with a quiet Roy Harper, as sleepy as he was. Roy let Jason unzip his hoodie, shrugging it off as Jason went for the bun on top of his head. The minute Jason’s fingers tangled in his hair Roy’s eyes slammed shut like someone had cut the power. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” Roy mumbled, giving in easily as Jason tipped him onto the mattress.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jason whispered back, as fondly as possible. He yanked off his pants and slid under the covers. By the time he managed to wrap his arms around Roy’s broad back, Roy was fast asleep. Jason buried his nose in his red hair, and followed him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh! Thank you all so much for the comments and kudos. It really means the world to me. 
> 
> I don't have a planned schedule for updates, but there are more pieces of this story already written I'm just letting them marinate before I go back and edit. There are at least two more chapters written and I'm trying to decide if the next story needs to be a separate piece.

The first time Roy woke up it was to the smell of clean sheets and leather. There was a whisper of a kiss along the shell of his ear. Roy stirred at the sensation, settling only when Jason shushed him.

“I have to head into the office. There’s coffee and muffins on the counter. Stop by when you can,” came Jason’s scratchy voice. The words didn’t quite penetrate his sleepy brain, and Roy only hummed in acknowledgement. He felt Jason tuck the comforter tighter around his shoulder and let himself melt back into the sheets.

The next time Roy opened his eyes it was mid-morning, the sun floating high over the Gotham skyline. He peered through the windows at it for a while, not wanting to leave the safe cocoon of blankets. His body had other ideas, however, and eventually Roy lurched out of bed and headed to the bathroom to get ready for the day. 

Coming to Gotham had been hard for Roy. He’d made the agreement easily enough, but the minute Jason had boarded his plane a creeping trepidation had settled under Roy’s skin. It was almost as if the more distance grew between them, the more unsure he became. He’d pushed, in that small hotel room, pushed when he’d promised himself he wouldn’t. It helped that Jason had responded with clear enthusiasm, but by the time Roy touched down in Los Angeles doubt had settled in.

Doubt was an old friend of Roy’s. He knew he didn’t show it, came across as carefree and occasionally careless, but it was there. He also knew it liked to sneak around in the most mundane of ways. Roy packed up the old Rent-a-Bat headquarters, destroying anything that could link back to them and shipping the rest to Star City. Seeing the last six months of work dismantled at his own hands soaked him in the reality of change. 

Now, freshly showered and smelling of Jason’s expensive body wash, Roy was beginning to wonder what he’d been so nervous about. 

True to Jason’s word, there was a pot of coffee waiting on the counter with muffins and fruit nearby. A small, gray burner phone was next to them with an address scribbled on a napkin underneath. 

Roy picked up the phone and texted the only number saved.

_ I keep telling you, you would have made an excellent ‘50s housewife. _

The phone pinged almost instantly. 

_ Shut up. You know I can’t find kitten heels in my size. How am I supposed to vacuum? _

Roy smiled. He palmed a few muffins and poured himself a cup of coffee before responding, wandering out to stare at Jason’s weird, murdery whiteboards. 

Roy loved puzzles, loved figuring out how things worked, and he felt like he had suddenly been given a key. To what, he wasn’t sure, but that itchy sensation in his brain had started up, the one that usually resulted in either new tech or a ruined household appliance.

_ I just think you’d look cute in a dress, that’s all. You have the hips for it. _

The reply didn’t come instantly this time. Roy wondered if Jason was blushing, then imagined him doing it while wearing a dress, preferably something red. Jason was tall, but his shoulders ran a little narrow for a guy his size. A lot of Jason’s power was in his legs and chest, and he had a nice, juicy set of pecs that seemed to escape Roy’s broader build despite his preferred weapon.

For a moment Roy's imagination ran wild, picturing it. He wondered if Jason would let him fuck them, wondered if he’d strain his neck to mouth at the tip of his cock when he’d did it. It took a good seven minutes to pull himself out of the fantasy, and by the time he got control his dick was at half-mast. 

The phone pinged.

_ You’re not putting me in a dress. I don’t even own an apron, let alone a pearl necklace. _

Roy shut his eyes and whined. There was no way,  _ no way, _ Jason knew what he was implying. There was, however, the word choice. Jason could have simply said he wasn’t going to wear a dress. Instead he’d told Roy what he wouldn’t do for him. 

Roy wondered what Jason would let him do.

_ So you’re saying there’s a chance.  _

The response took even longer this time. Roy crammed an entire muffin in his mouth and started peeling an orange, eyes still trying to deconstruct Jason’s coded notes. 

_ I’m trying to work, mostly with ex-cons mind you, so keep the flirting to a dull roar when you get here. _

Which, that should be something they should talk about. Gotham meant there was always the imminent threat of one of Bruce’s brood showing up. Roy peered up at the rafters out of habit, almost anticipating the swirl of a cape. 

_ Can one be considered an ex-con when actively living a criminal lifestyle? Also, that seems like a broad, homophobic smear on the shining reputaion of the ex-con community. _

During Roy’s whirlwind jaunt across the country, he’d stopped in Star City long enough to see family and share a belated, second Christmas meal. Oliver had made chili, of course, and congratulated him on his corporate whistle-blowing. He’d then asked about Jason. It was an olive branch, of sorts. Oliver’s hatred of Jason after his violent afterschool special with Mia had lessened with time, but not by much.

It was nice to have him try, though, for Roy’s sake.

Perhaps it was the shock of Oliver’s kindness, or maybe it was something in Roy’s tone or his face, or just the fact that they were family, but by the time he’d stammered out a weak, vague response both Dinah and Mia were shooting each other knowing looks. They’d barely waited until Ollie and Connor left for patrol before pouncing on him.

It wasn’t like his sexuality was a secret. Almost all of them had caught a family member in one compromising position or another (Ollie, mostly, for obvious reasons). Roy wasn’t usually shy about his conquests, but he felt protective of this change with Jason. Telling Oliver he was screwing Jason would probably cause a fight, followed by Oliver bitching to Bruce, and then Roy would have to deal with two sets of daddy issues.

Luckily, Dinah had sworn to keep his secret, wrapping him a tight hug and wishing him every happiness. Mia had promised to end Jason terribly in absurdly vivid detail should he step out of line, but given her blessing. She’d always been oddly forgiving of Jason, despite having the most cause to dislike him. Roy didn’t know why, and instead of asking about it he’d kept his mouth shut and said yes when she suggested mani-pedis that evening.

The phone pinged.

_ I can’t with you. If you’re coming over, bring lunch. _

“And they say romance is dead,” Roy told the screen.

_ Fantasy officially ruined. See if I let you rub my feet tonight. _

Roy set the phone down. He pulled an image scanner from his tech bag, an idea forming in his head as he pondered the whiteboards. He probably wasn’t going to make it for lunch, but Roy might be able to do something better.

+

Roy wandered into Jason’s headquarters a little past three o’clock. He had dressed casually--unless he was called in for Bat shenanigans, Arsenal was publicly separating from the Red Hood who had decided to “break bad.” He had on a green beanie, a black hoodie and denim jacket paired with ripped jeans and red Chuck Taylors. He had a gym bag slung across his back that had his gear. No Arsenal meant no bow, and the weight of a handgun in his jacket pocket was going to take some getting used to.

Jason had set up shop in an old dentist’s office next to an abandoned maple syrup factory. Even with the cold air Roy could taste a hint of sugar in his throat, making him think of pancakes. Roy smiled wryly at the idea of kids being treated for cavities, smelling that sweet syrupy smell all the while. It didn’t seem fair.

Old medical buildings tended to have good plumbing and a lot of corners leftover from patient rooms, making them ideal for a lot of criminal activity. Roy gingerly made his way down the hall, listening for the sound of Jason’s voice. He checked out each room as he went, finally coming to a confusing dead end near the back. Wondering if he’d arrived too late, Roy idly thought about heading back to the safehouse before noticing a small panel on the far wall. It looked almost state of the art in design, definitely not something that had been in commission when this place had been pulling teeth.

Roy walked over to the panel. After a few moments of inspection, he took a wild guess and placed his right hand against it. There was a flash of light as something scanned his palm, the screen warming under his touch. To his left, the wall moved sideways with a slight hiss, revealing a short, dark corridor behind it.

“I love Gotham,” Roy said to himself, walking into the proverbial rabbit’s hole.

There was a similar panel at the end of the hallway, one that opened to the ground floor of the factory next door. Or perhaps, Roy considered, taking in the low ceilings, the basement. It had a classic spooky vibe, one lone lightbulb swaying in the center of the room, a staircase across the way. Roy crossed over and climbed the rickety steps. He was met with a simple door, one that opened with a flick of his wrist, and Roy stepped out into soft daylight and the smell of sugar in the air.

He’d barely crossed the threshold when a cheerful voice rang out, one Roy strained to recognize.

_ “¡Hola, hermano! _ You made it!”

Roy squinted, eyes adjusting to the light. He was in what looked like an industrial kitchen space, freezers on one side, counters lining the other. A large stainless steel prep table was in front of him, behind it a large three compartment sink. He didn’t see the source of the voice until a bald head poked out from behind a corner.

“You wanna grilled cheese?” asked the head, a cheerful look in its brown eyes.

Confused, Roy stepped forward with a frown. “Maybe?”

He turned the corner, curious, and found a small Mexican man with a sharp salt-and-pepper goatee standing over a large grill. He was wearing an oversized cream sweater that warmed his brown skin, jeans, and a plaid jacket. 

“Good enough for me!” the man said, and slapped another slice of bread on the grill. “Name’s Jerry Espinoza, by the way. Boss said you might be stopping by.”

“Roy,” Roy said, excitement beginning to well up in him. He’d heard Jason mention Jerry’s name once or twice and knew he was the man behind the curtain, so-to-speak, when Jason was away. He’d imagined some sort of gruff fisherman-type, probably Irish and weathered like an old army colonel. Jerry was dressed the part, but not much else fit. 

“Well, _ I _ can know that, seeing as how I know the boss,” Jerry said, gesturing at Roy with a large metal spatula. “But you better be thinking of a different name for when the rest of the boys and girls show up.”

_ Shit _ .

“Shit,” Roy said. 

Jerry laughed, head thrown back. The sound warmed his heart. Roy thought of things like kindred spirits, thought of how Brave Bow used to laugh like that, wild with amusement.

“Call me Will,” Roy said, smiling openly at Jerry. He held out a hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Jerry replied, taking his hand and giving it a hearty shake. He gestured at Roy with the spatula once more, all business. “Now, make yourself useful and spread some mayo on that bread. And don’t start with any butter arguments, not when we’re getting to know each other.”

Roy did as he was told, depositing his bag on the prep table and stepping up to help. 

“Where is the boss?” he asked, handing over a slice of bread with a healthy spread of mayonnaise. 

“On errands, he said. He should be back in an hour,” Jerry told him. “Hand me the cheese now.”

Roy chatted with Jerry as he grilled. He’d been half-right on the fisherman front. Jerry had worked the docks until he’d taken a piece of shrapnel to the chest in one of the many Gotham territory disputes. Jerry had figured, at the time, if you couldn’t beat ‘em you could join ‘em, and done the usual Gotham thug circuit. He’d been good at it, excellent in managing operations and even better at handling people.

His last job had been on a Joker crew. If you were too good at a thing, and the clown knew your name and needed you for a job, you were crew. It was just how it was. 

Jerry hadn’t known that at the time, hadn’t understood the methods of persuasion involved. He’d lost a brother and a daughter before he’d said yes to the Joker. He’d only escaped after a battle between the Bat and the Clown, ushered away by a surprise ally, Catwoman. She’d passed him Jason’s name and they’d been working together ever since. 

“And you were just okay with working for a nineteen-year-old?” Roy had to ask, because joining up with a hotheaded teen because a jewel thief thought it was a good idea seemed sketchy. They’d settled themselves down at the prep table, a tower of cheesy goodness between them. 

It was hard for Roy to think about, sometimes, how young Jason had first been when he’d launched his one-man war on Gotham. Harder still to realize that Jason was still in his early twenties while Roy stared down the barrel of turning thirty in a few years. Their age difference wasn’t usually noticeable--Jason had grown up too quickly, then died young, making him a weird mix of maturity and naivete all at once.

Jerry smiled, but with a hint of seriousness. “Well, I assume you’ve met him, huh?”

It was Roy’s turn to smile. He held out a slice of grilled cheese, gesturing for Jerry to clink sandwiches with him. Jerry did, and Roy found he was delighted.

“Tell me everything,” Roy demanded, mouth full of cheese. God, he hoped there were photos.

Jerry held up a finger. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a slender white strip Roy instantly recognized as a joint. Roy raised an eyebrow and Jerry winked at him.

“I run most of his weed business too,” Jerry said by way of explanation. “You want?” he asked, holding out the joint and sliding another from his pocket.

“Probably not,” Roy said, holding his hands up. Roy didn’t mind weed, but it was as good a time as any to start this conversation. “Recovering addict.”

‘Oh man, my bad, I’m sorry,” Jerry replied easily, pocketing the second joint as fast as he’d produced it. He gestured with the joint still in his hand. “You mind if I…?”

Roy waved his hands again. “My thing was heroin and booze.”

“Well, as long as it’s not the hard stuff,” Jerry joked, relaxing, which left Roy with the small sense of relief that came after every conversation. He laughed as Jerry lit the joint, leaning back in his chair with an expectant look.

“What do you want to know?” Jerry asked.

Roy shrugged. “I dunno. Anything you think I should?”

Jerry looked him over carefully. He blew out an impressive ring of smoke, then held out the joint to Roy once again. Roy considered the connotations of the gesture, weighed the consequences. Personally, Roy didn’t abstain from weed for his sobriety, hadn’t needed to, but he knew that wasn’t the same for others. He wondered what Jerry’s estimation of him was now, if this was a challenge or an act of comradery.

Roy took the joint, considered it, then gave it back to Jerry, who was still watching him carefully.

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” Roy said, amiably, rolling his shoulders. “Also, it’s four in the afternoon.”

“I’m retired,” Jerry said dryly. He gave Roy another long look.

Roy raised his eyebrows as he held his gaze, and let Jerry come to a decision.

Jerry took a long drag, mischief clear on his weathered face. “I hear you’re his boy.”

“I hear you’re his main man,” Roy said, not missing a beat.

Jerry’s eyes went wide at that, and he threw his head back in a hearty laugh. Roy joined him this time, feeling like he’d passed a test he probably wouldn’t have enjoyed failing. If Jerry was playing him, he was damn good, but it didn’t feel like it.

Roy listened as Jerry began to speak. He was a good storyteller, like most old men who’d seen too much.

Jerry spun the tale of the few years he and Jason had worked together. It turned out being the Red Hood was a lot less crime boss and a lot more information broker with a little bit of real estate mogul thrown in. Roy knew the Bats had all been assigned pieces of Gotham to protect, but Jason had carved out his territory before coming into the light so-to-speak. 

The more Roy heard, the more the Red Hood’s mob boss status sounded like a cover. Sure, he was definitely a criminal mastermind and up to no good, but Roy could read between the lines. Jason had somehow created a messy sort-of infrastructure deep in the Narrows, usually one battle at a time. His loyalty was built on hiring guys for a few jobs, then instilling them in mostly legitimate roles once the war was won. If Jason took out a slumlord, he replaced it with one of his people. He ran protection for the working girls, kept a strict surveillance on the drug trade, and possibly owned half the buildings in Park Row, including a flower shop.

“Stop,” Roy complained after awhile. “You're talking him up too much and I feel insecure.”

“Well,” Jerry said, palming another sandwich, “If it makes you feel any better he definitely deals in a lot of gun running which I’m not exactly comfortable with. And he kills people.”

“That’s better,” Roy said, though it really wasn’t. 

“Anyway, I told you all that just so you know,” Jerry continued, ashing out the last of the joint in a coffee mug, “There’s a lot of people ‘round here, a lot of people who like your boy. Step carefully,  _ hermano.” _

Roy raised a hand in a lazy salute. “I swear to you on your big metal spatula. You have my bow.”

“And you have my grill,” Jerry said solemnly. Roy’s eyes lit up at the reference, deciding then and there Jerry had to be his new best friend.

“What the fuck is going on?” asked Jason, loudly, making them both jump. Roy didn’t know where Jason had come from, but it hadn’t been the way Roy’d come in. He was dressed in his usual brown leather jacket and black tac pants, thigh holsters strapped tight. 

“I’m swearing fealty to Jerry. I love him,” Roy answered, looking back to Jerry, who acknowledged him with a noble bow.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ.”

“Hey boss, the new kid’s all vetted,” Jerry said, waving a crust in his general direction.

“Thank my lucky fucking stars,” Jason deadpanned, stomping forward. 

“Seems aggressive,” Roy commented, wanting to defend his new best friend. Jerry smirked.

“Are you stoned?” Jason asked, voice rising with disbelief. Roy froze for a moment, trying to smother a scowl at Jason’s tone.

When Roy didn’t answer immediately, Jason whirled on Jerry, face screwing up into a snarl that only ever meant imminent violence. “Did you get him  _ stoned?” _

_ Well fuck. _

“Hey!” Roy called out, rising to his feet. 

Jason’s eyes snapped to his, his hands settling on his hips like he was bracing to say something he wasn’t going to be able to take back.

“No,” Roy said, in a tone that brooked no argument. “You don’t get to do that, Jaybird.”

Jerry shot Roy a questioning look, eyes darting between the two of them. Roy held Jason’s gaze, unyielding as steel as he watched Jason struggle to swallow his anger. Stubborn, willful Jason Todd, they said, like it was a bad thing. Roy had the benefit of having a sniper’s patience, and had all the time in the world to give Jason the room he needed to process.

After a minute Jason let out a loud exhale, the anger leeching out of him, his irate expression slowly replaced with one of remorse and impatience.

Roy gave him a reassuring smile.

“Need anything more from me today, boss?” Jerry asked, carefully neutral in the wake of the drama. He didn’t seem surprised by Jason’s moodiness. 

Jason turned his eyes to Jerry, a cowed look on his face. He shook his head.

“Well I’ll head out then,” Jerry said, tone effortlessly easy. “Don’t forget to do that thing, boss. Simone’s counting on you.”

“I will,” Jason promised gruffly. 

“I’m serious, I’m in love with you, Jerry,” Roy called out as Jerry rose to leave. It earned him a confused look from Jason and a fond one from Jerry, so he called it a win. 

He waved goodbye to Jerry as the older man exited through the door, leaving him and Jason alone.

“So, Jerry’s great,” Roy said, never one for awkward silences.

Jason twitched, hands flexing at his sides. He ducked his head, peering up at Roy with a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

“I didn’t mean....” Jason began, trailing off when Roy crossed his arms over his chest.

Roy waited him out, ignoring how the tips of Jason’s ears turned pink.

“You’re not the only one who wants to do things right, you know,” Jason said, indignant. 

“I know my limits,” Roy warned, cocking his hip to the side.

“I know,” Jason agreed, looking away, down to his boots.

Usually it was hard for Roy to contain his anger when he felt he was being handled. Jason didn’t make him feel like that, not entirely. In some ways his behavior was welcomed, making Roy feel like something worthy of immediate protection, even in the face of an old friend. But Roy could hear the fear in Jason’s voice, which carried the sting of doubt to Roy’s own heart. He loved that Jason didn’t try to argue, didn’t stumble into that well-meaning road of acknowledging his shortcomings. 

“However,” Roy said, relenting as he walked over to Jason. He slid a hand around Jason’s waist, another up the back of his neck so he could tangle his fingers in the short hair there. “It’s nice to know you’re looking out for me, Jaybird.”

Jason, stubborn as always, didn’t lean in for the kiss like Roy hoped. Instead he was stoically holding onto some weird guilt Bruce had probably instilled in him the first week as Robin. There was probably a standard level of guilt all Bats must meet to operate in Gotham. The idea made Roy chuckle, which then blew up into a full blown snort.

“I’m not stoned,” Roy told Jason. “Didn’t even partake. Although if I choose to do so that’s not up to you.”

“Sure,” Jason offered, looking unconvinced. He put both hands on Roy’s hips, steadying him.

Roy laughed, leaning into the touch. “Oh my god, you Puritan, it’s not that serious. Honestly, you could do with a little relaxation.”

Jason gave him a considering look, then finally leaned down to brush his lips against Roy’s. Roy kissed back eagerly, strengthening the grip on the back of Jason’s neck until he felt him begin to settle.

“There you go,” Roy soothed, pressing his tongue playfully between Jason’s lips before pulling away. Jason’s eyes were closed, forehead resting against his. 

“Take me home?” he offered.

Jason shivered, pulling back, shaking his head. “I gotta make a stop first.”

“Want company?” Roy asked. 

Jason’s eyes flashed, mouth curling impishly. Roy felt the hair on his arms stand up at the promise of his smile.

“How do you feel about yoga?” 


	3. Chapter 3

“Well,” Jason said, watching with satisfaction as the last of the henchmen dropped to the ground, “That was a lot easier than I expected.”

Roy was bent at the waist beside him, trying to catch his breath. “I should’ve stretched,” he complained, sending Jason a dirty look.

“I asked you about yoga,” Jason reminded him, cheerful.

“Oh yeah? That what you call this?” Roy gestured to the half-dozen unconscious men and women around them.

Jason eyed the scene before him as well. The yoga studio they were in was trashed, furniture and lamps smashed with limp, unconscious bodies all around. There was probably no getting blood out of some of the mats. 

“Maybe?”

An enterprising young woman was worming her way towards a gym bag, no doubt heading for a weapon. Jason picked up a nearby amethyst crystal and whipped it in her direction, neatly catching her in the temple. It was at most a glance, not even breaking the skin, but it was enough to knock her out.

“And that?” Roy asked, tone dry as the desert.

Jason shrugged. “I was realigning her chakra.”

Roy shook his head, but laughed. Jason gave him a sharp smile.

“You been sitting on that one?” Roy said, already pulling out zip ties like he’d read Jason’s mind. 

“Only like, fifteen minutes,” Jason told him. He cast his eyes around, looking for a live one. A young white woman glared up at him from the ground, dirty-blonde and thin. She was clutching a broken arm to her chest. Jason recognized her—she’d gotten some good hits in.

The woman was watching him with wary brown eyes. She was skinny, but not in the haggard way that usually meant constant drug use. Jason gave her a once over, thoughtful. Roman was a sexist piece of shit who usually didn’t use women in the field, and there were two on this crew alone.

Something had changed while Jason was away. He wondered if she would tell him what.

Jason unholstered a heavy pistol, leveling it at her head. “Up.”

“Gonna shoot me? You like hurting women?” she rasped at him, turning even paler with pain as she got her feet under her. Jason wondered if she’d been posted here undercover. She was dressed in dark workout clothes, but the empty shoulder holster told a different story.

“No,” Jason answered, gesturing for her to move closer to him so Roy could move freely amongst the other unconscious goons. “And I like shooting them even less, but that doesn’t mean I won’t, so let’s take it easy.”

“Do you know who I work for?” the woman asked, sounding cocky but not confident. 

Jason sighed.

“You know he’s heard that a million times, right?” Roy chimed in, snorting as he propped an unconscious man against the far wall, using the zip ties to restrain them.

“Oh yeah?” And who the fuck are you that people tell you that so much,” she shot back, eyes on Jason. “You slow or something?”

Honestly, Jason kinda liked her.

“He’s the Red Hood, ma’am,” Roy drawled, moving to secure the next guy. He seemed amused by her surly demeanor as well. 

“For real?” she asked, quieter this time. Her eyes darted from Roy to Jason, a glimmer of fear beginning to shine through. 

“I’m wearing a red mask and pointing a gun at you,” Jason said, smiling darkly. “So who’s slow now?” he asked, trying to gauge what she was more afraid of, him or the gun. Her eyes kept drifting to the other girl on the ground, the one Jason had hit with the crystal. 

“It’s not a hood, is all,” the girl mumbled, almost as if she couldn’t help it. It startled a laugh out of him and a supportive look from Roy. 

Jason pulled the gun back, muzzle pointed towards the ceiling. He clicked the safety, watching her watch him, and came to a decision.

“You want a job? Maybe a change in management?” he asked, taking a chance on a gut feeling. 

Roy’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. Jason shrugged.

“Depends on what you want me for,” said the woman, fear now evident in her voice. She looked between him and Roy, entire body tensing as her mouth curled into a snarl. 

Jason knew that look, saw it almost every night as he passed by the working girls in Crime Alley who didn’t recognize him.

“Nothing like what you’re thinking,” Jason said firmly. He holstered the gun, holding his hands up, ignoring how Roy’s face fell when he realized what the girl thought Jason had meant.

The woman didn’t look convinced. Jason took a step back.

“I have a job for you, but it’s a two-parter,” Jason explained, keeping his voice level. “First things first, I would have you go back and tell Roman about what happened here tonight. I want him to know that the Red Hood bought Nathaniel Bowers’ debt with his men’s lives. This territory is mine now. Tell him he’s welcome to come collect.”

“You won’t kill ‘em?” the woman asked, her eyes flickering to the girl on the ground again. Jason narrowed his eyes. The unconscious woman was a tall black woman with green braids, so he doubted they were related.

“No,” Jason promised. “My boys will drop them off near his club, safe as houses.”

Roy had taken to leaning against one of the support beams in the room. He was quiet, watching Jason as he spoke, eyes curious and expression thoughtful. Whenever Jason glanced at him the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“And then what’s the catch?” the girl asked. “I kinda figured you were gonna turn me into a message, but a messenger’s not far off. What’s the second part?”

“Well,  _ Miss _ ...” Jason trailed off, gesturing to her.

“Courtney,” she supplied, looking unimpressed. “Or Ms. Thompson if you’re feeling respectful.”

“Don’t count on it,” Roy muttered under his breath. Jason shot him a dark look.

“Then, Courtney, I’d have you meet me tomorrow at five o’clock to talk business,” Jason said, turning back to the problem at hand. He scribbled an address on a nearby piece of scratch paper and handed it to her, telegraphing each of his purposefully slow movements.

Courtney took the paper, read it, then looked up at him through dirty-blonde fringe. “You wrote down the address for  _ this _ place.”

“That’s why they call it a catch. What do you know about running a yoga studio?” Jason asked, like he was inquiring about the weather. 

Roy sent him the exasperated look he only used when he thought Jason was being overly dramatic. Jason thought Roy didn’t understand how Gotham worked.

Courtney understood, though. Jason could see the exact moment she realized his offer was a valid one—the tension she’d been carrying in her body suddenly abated, the clear surprise knocking it right out of her bones.

“What?” she said, staring at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“I promise the rent will be low, the business will be, eventually, legitimate, and honestly, it doesn’t have to be a yoga studio. I don’t really care what you want to do with the place,” Jason said, ticking off each reason he listed on his fingers. Actually, he didn’t know if he could afford a yoga studio, who knew what the insurance had to be for those things.

“What I want is for you to meet me for the occasional cup of coffee while we chat about the neighborhood, understand?” Jason continued distractedly, now absurdly thinking about who he could contact about yoga insurance fraud, “And there’s more work from there, if you want it and I decide you’re capable.”

Courtney, mirrored closely by Roy behind her, stared at him with equally lost expressions, like he’d been speaking in a foreign language the entire time.

“What?” he bristled, suddenly nervous.

His sharp tone seemed to spur Courtney out of her daze. “To be honest, I don’t know the first thing about running a yoga studio,” she confessed, words tumbling out her in a rush.

Jason relaxed. “I saw you fight, you’re flexible enough to fake it if you want.”

“But, I could run a hair salon. Well, I’m good with money. I’d need a partner,” Courtney said, looking meaningfully down to the woman Jason had knocked out with the amethyst crystal. He grimaced, tracking her gaze.

“Lotta gossip at a salon,” Courtney continued. She was trying to sound tough, but there was an undercurrent of desperation in her voice. There was concern in her eyes when she looked at the unconscious woman, like one would have for a family member or a lover.

Jason didn’t feel like she was trying to pull one over on him, but rather that she was trying to get a good deal for someone important to her.

“So it’s like that then?” Jason asked, tone gentle and a meaningful look in his eye.

Roy didn’t seem to think poorly of drama right now, the hypocrite. He was watching Jason from the shadows with open interest, green eyes huge in the dim light. 

“It is,” Courtney replied, holding his gaze, chin high.

Jason smirked, nodding. He liked her.

“Well then, I’ll see both of you tomorrow to iron out details, Courtney and...” he trailed off, gesturing to the unconscious woman. 

“Do you not know how to ask for names or something? Her name’s Meredith and yes, she’s my girlfriend.” Courtney huffed. Apparently feeling safer, she moved over near the woman, gingerly cradling her broken arm as she knelt down. “I don’t suppose I get to know your names, do I?” she asked, eyes solely resting on Meredith’s slack expression.

Mildly chastised and a little remorseful, Jason didn’t answer at first. He felt strangely captivated by the sight of Courtney running her good hand along Meredith’s green braids, concern plain on her face.

“You can call me Will,” Roy said. 

_ That  _ particular development was news to Jason and his expression showed it, judging by the rude glare Roy shot his way.

“Well, Will,” Courtney said, looking up and offering Roy her good hand. “It feels weird to say given the circumstances, but it’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. Tell your girlfriend I’ll want hair advice when she uh...wakes up,” Roy said awkwardly, taking her hand. 

Jason watched Roy pull out his best smile, the one that made Jason’s heart thump loudly in his ears every time he saw the crooked curve of it. He watched that same grin win over Courtney like it had everyone else, coaxing a laugh out of a woman who’d considered him an enemy only minutes ago.

There weren’t a lot of smiles like that, Jason thought. He cleared his throat and turned away from them both, pulling out his phone. He sent out a few messages, making arrangements with Bishop, his main bruiser, to have a few of his guys come out and collect Black Mask’s crew and get the two new hires over to Leslie’s clinic.

“I’ll have people here in a few minutes to take care of you two and the rest,” he explained when he was done, turning back to look at them. Roy was helping Courtney sit down on the floor, Meredith’s head in her lap, because that’s the kind of man he was.

Jason Todd was the kind of man who whacked women in the head with rocks. Roy Harper was the kind that helped them, easily ripping up his own hoodie with broad hands so he could fashion a sling for Courtney’s broken arm. It was the way things were, and no good ever came from thinking about it too much.

“After the clinic, my guys will back you when you meet with Roman. Do  _ not  _ get yourselves killed or do anything extraordinarly stupid. If it’s too hot or Roman is too volatile, don’t chance it. I’m sure he’ll get my message either way,” Jason continued. He was testing her, seeing if she’d agree to tell Roman the news personally. Not telling him was the safer option, but if she made a show of changing loyalty it would benefit Jason’s agenda.

“Got it. Roman doesn’t scare me,  _ Mister.... _ ” Courtney said, expression pointed and expectant. The woman had a broken arm and Jason had brained her girlfriend and she was teasing him. 

Roy shot Jason an amused look over his shoulder.

“I think Red Hood will do for now,” Jason said, quickly realizing he was outnumbered. Roy clicked his tongue in disapproval, sounding all the world like Damian.

“Got it, boss,” Courtney teased. 

Honestly, it was nice to catch a lucky break every once in a while. Jason’s recruitment process usually went a little something like this, but it didn’t always produce talent. He hoped she might want to do more than run a hair salon—she’d make a good information broker and possibly a decent fence.

Instead of rising to the bait, Jason rolled his eyes and looked at Roy. “Well, whenever you’re finished playing nurse, say your goodbyes then meet me on the roof. I have to make a phone call.”

Roy nodded, pulling a water bottle from his bag and handing it to Courtney. “Drink this, broken bones dehydrate the fuck out of you. I know, who knew?”

Jason left him to it, giving Courtney one last look before walking outside. Vans were pulling up as he exited, and he saw Bishop jump out the driver’s side of one on the left, Vegas and Garza exiting the other. They were all ex-military and tended to be Jason’s go-to mercs anytime he decided to get feisty with the local crime bosses. Jason reiterated his instructions, greeting each man with a hearty clasping of forearms, then made a beeline to the roof.

Alone, Jason unlocked his phone and called Jerry, letting him know that the deed was officially done. Nathaniel Bowers was safe from the wrath of the Black Mask for now, as requested. Jerry thanked him profusely and wouldn’t let him off the phone until he promised to come over to Simone’s for dinner next week. By the time Jason managed to get him off the line he was already reaching for a cigarette. A few had survived the fight, crooked but still whole. Jason plucked one from the crumpled pack and lit it with relish.

Roy gracefully grappled up onto the roof a few minutes later. He’d left both his hoodie and jacket down below, dressed only in a cream henley and black camo pants. He had on dark, fingerless gloves that hovered awkwardly over the Glock he’d strapped to his hip.

Roy took off his beanie, shaking his head as he walked over to Jason, red hair spilling everywhere. “I can’t believe you made fun of my nickname, I just met a guy named ‘Vegas’ downstairs,” he said by way of greeting. He reached out to pluck the cigarette from Jason’s fingers, taking a few drags for himself.

“It’s literally your middle name, moron,” Jason said, watching Roy’s lips purse when he blew smoke into the cold Gotham air. “And if Vegas is a bit much for you, just wait until you meet Flat Top Stanley and Cheebs.”

“Are you serious?” Roy asked, eyeing Jason like he was trying to pull one over on him.

Jason took the cigarette back, taking a deep drag before shrugging. “It’s not like I asked to verify their social security numbers,  _ Will,” _ he said, laughing.

“Oh hush,” Roy said, disgruntled. “As if you didn’t run background checks on every last one of them.”

“No,” Jason lied, smiling wryly before he took another drag. “But I might have forged some of those social security cards.”

“Allegedly,” Roy murmured, chuckling softly.

Jason hummed in agreement. He let the cigarette fall to the roof, crushing the butt with a heavy boot. He turned to face Roy, who stepped closer to him in return. Roy was shivering slightly, arms crossed loosely over his chest to help keep warm now that he was without a coat. He stood out like a sore thumb, his henley a stark white against the dark Gotham skyline.

“You gonna keep me standing out here in the cold, or are you going to explain why you asked me to come to a yoga studio in the Narrows minutes before it was being invaded by Black Mask’s thugs?” Roy mused, looking up at him. “What on Earth would Sionis do with a yoga studio anyway?” 

Instead of answering, Jason took off his jacket. He held it out to Roy. It was a bit of a gamble—Roy was easygoing, for the most part, unless he thought someone was trying to look after him. Jason had already fucked that up once today with Jerry and the weed, and he didn’t know if he was going in for a second helping.

“Between the hair and that shirt you might as well have a target on your back,” he said gruffly.

“How gallant, Jaybird. But I’d still like an explanation,” Roy said, hesitating before giving in and taking the brown leather jacket from him. He shrugged it on, the sleeves straining around his biceps in a distracting manner. Roy’s usually clever fingers fumbled with the zipper, fingerless gloves apparently next-to-useless in the Gotham winter.

“Nathaniel Bowers is dating Jerry’s grand niece, Simone. He practically raised her,” Jason began to explain. He gave into his own twitching fingers, reaching out to knock Roy’s hands away and zip up the jacket himself. For a brief moment the back of his knuckles brushed against Roy’s vulnerable stomach.

“Nate’s a dumb kid from South Hill trying to impress a girl. He tried to get Jerry to take him on as crew, and when Jerry wouldn’t he decided to try and use his daddy’s money to buy up some territory from Black Mask.”

“That’s a cute deathwish,” Roy said, arms at his sides and perfectly still as Jason zipped him up to his chin, staying that way even when Jason smoothed out imaginary wrinkles along Roy’s chest and collar. 

“Yep,” Jason said. He stepped back from Roy, who was now bundled up as much as he was gonna get. “Roman was going to take his money, keep the buildings, and get rid of a loose string or two, Simone probably being one of them.”

“And Jerry called in a favor,” Roy said knowingly. 

Jason nodded. “That he did. And now, I’m gonna have to figure out something for that idiot to do,” he said, sighing.

Roy smirked, mashing his hair up underneath his beanie once again. “You’re still gonna make him crew.”

“It sounds like the kid really likes her. If I don’t he’s liable to run off and pull another harebrained scheme, at least this way I can keep an eye on him,” Jason grumped, idly thinking of possible options in his head, which were few. 

“So let me get this straight,” Roy said, reaching down to place both hands on Jason’s waist, pulling him closer. “Today you not only started a war with Black Mask for some kid you don’t know because Jerry asked you to, but part of that included beating up, hiring, and then gifting a pair of baby lesbians a yoga studio?”

Jason made a face. “I wouldn’t exactly—”

“Big, bad, Red Hood,” Roy interrupted, voice low and rough with promising intent. He looked up at Jason through his lashes, the two of them close enough that their breath mingled in the cold air. “Is this how you usually do things?”

“More or less,” Jason admitted, closing his eyes.

He felt the warm press of Roy’s chapped lips against his, reassuring and strong. Jason leaned into it, his own arms coming up to cup Roy’s elbows.

“You’re a good man, Jason Todd,” Roy murmured, speaking right against Jason’s mouth, tongue ghosting along his lips.

“No names in the field,” Jason replied automatically, the response trained into him. He broke the kiss, raising his head to check the rooftops around them out of habit.

Roy rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m not calling you Red Hood all the time, that’s insane. Also, you’re not my boss.”

Jason grit his teeth, staring down at his toes.

Time to pay the piper, so-to-speak.

“When I’m not in uniform, uh...the guys...the guys just call me Jay,” he mumbled, like somehow if he spoke quietly enough he could avoid the immediate shriek of Roy’s laughter, which of course, he did not. When Roy laughed too hard he sounded like a braying donkey, like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the world to keep up with his happiness.

“Oh my god, and you gave me shit,” Roy exclaimed, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

He reached up and nudged Jason on the chin, making him meet his green eyes. “Now, let’s go home, because I’m not blowing you on this rooftop, my knees won’t take it.”

“Jesus Christ, you can’t just say things like that,” Jason said, exhaling harshly through his nose as his blood began pumping faster. He took a step back from Roy, who took one look at his scandalized expression and exploded with laughter all over again.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna do a lot more than talk, can we please get off this fucking roof now?” Roy said, still chuckling. He actually had a hand on his own chest, like he was laughing so hard he was in pain, the asshole.

Jason fumed for a moment, but then decided to do what he did best—get even. He tugged Roy in close, smothering his laughter with a quick, promising press of his lips. Roy opened up easily for him, tongue scraping against his, the both of them making small, involuntary sounds at sensation.

Jason pulled back first, looking down at Roy’s dazed expression. He ran a thumb over his cheek, waiting for Roy’s eyes to focus before he leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“If you can catch me, Harper, I’ll let you do whatever you want,” Jason promised, turning his voice into something dark and challenging.

Roy’s eyes snapped open, narrowing instantly when he recognized Jason’s expression.

“Don’t—” Roy warned, but it was too late. 

Jason gave him a hearty shove and took off running towards the next rooftop. He laughed as he did it, cackling as he launched himself into the air in a perfect somersault. For a second, he could feel a cape brush along the back of his thighs like a phantom limb, but then his feet hit cement and he kept running, listening for the sound of Roy giving chase behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. This one is a long one, folks, and definitely where we earn our E rating. It's basically nearly 8K of porn and emotions. Mind the tags, remember that fanfic sex isn't real, and enjoy yourselves.
> 
> Also, should I include links to my playlists in the series summary? I have a few I'd like to share but I'm not sure if that's a thing that's done in these parts.

Roy caught up with him on the balcony of the safehouse. Jason had his phone out, using it to disable the building’s security. He watched Roy gracefully leap from the firescape up over the balcony railing, landing with sturdy feet and wind-chapped cheeks.

“Well, you won,” Roy said as he approached, smiling warmly. “And I won’t even complain about the cheating. Or point out that we left your car back there.”

Jason pretended to keep hitting buttons on his phone, adrenaline still buzzing under his skin. 

“Didn’t win yet,” he pointed out nonchalantly, not looking at Roy.

Roy stopped short, like a record scratch.

“What’re you saying, Jaybird?” he asked.

“Race ends when someone opens this door,” Jason said, matter-of-factly. He pocketed his phone, finally looking over, watching him carefully.

Jason lived for the moment that came after he tipped his hand, and surprising Roy Harper wasn’t always the easiest of tasks. Roy didn’t disappoint, green eyes growing round with surprise, mouth slack. 

Jason kept his own expression neutral as a sense of satisfaction rolled through him, ignoring how he could feel the tips of ears turning pink.

True to form, Roy recovered quickly enough, a lazy smile snaking across his face as his body language turned predatory. He sidled up slowly to Jason, just shy of touching. 

“So if I beat you to the door,” Roy said, voice low and firm, “I can do anything I want, huh? You sure about that?”

Jason’s hands flexed, trying not to reach out. “I say what I mean, Harper,” he said evenly.

“And mean what you say, I suppose,” Roy replied, glancing first to Jason’s mouth and then down to his chest. He snagged a finger through Jason’s belt loop, pulling their hips flush against each other. Jason let himself rock into it, leaning his forehead against Roy’s brow.

“To be clear,” Jason said, letting Roy nuzzle against his throat. “If you make me do anything weird like wear a goat mask or call you Daddy, you’ll never hear the end of it.”

Roy’s teeth scraped against his Adam’s apple. Jason hissed, pain and pleasure shooting through him. He reached up and snagged Roy by the hair, tossing his beanie onto the balcony.

“I’m sorry, I stopped listening after you said you wanted to call me Daddy,” Roy apologized, sounding distracted. His tongue dragged over the bruise he’d just left on Jason’s throat. Jason tilted his head back, willing his body to relax.

“Jesus Christ, Roy,” Jason griped, feeling impatient. He twisted his fingers in Roy’s thick locks, pulling him closer. “Open the fucking door already.”

Roy laughed into his neck, kissing the skin there gently before pulling away. He opened the balcony door with a flourish, bowing exaggeratedly when Jason moved to step through.

Jason rolled his eyes as he obliged, setting to work on his boots as soon as he was past the threshold. He stripped down to his shirt and pants, depositing his gear on the table in the outer room that held his white boards and tech. He paused as he did so, noticing four of his Red Hood helmets stacked in a neat square on a nearby desk. He went over to them, going to palm one.

“Wait!” Roy called out. Jason stilled, looking over his shoulder with a questioning look.

Roy had stripped down as well. He was pulling his hair up into a messy ponytail as he walked over, pushing up the sleeves of his henley to his elbows. He came up behind Jason, resting one hand on the small of his back, chest brushing his shoulder blade.

“What is all this? Jason asked, turning back to look at the helmets. Roy bumped his head against Jason’s temple, taking a deep breath like he was scenting him. Jason hoped he liked the smell of blood and culturally-appropriated white sage.

“The reason I missed lunch,” Roy said. He bent forward, chin hooked over Jason’s shoulder. Jason moved with him, feeling the weight of Roy’s body along his back. He braced himself with one hand on the desk. Roy reached past Jason’s fingers, tapping a few keys on a nearby laptop. 

“These guys are still undergoing the installation process, plus a few upgrades by the way,” Roy explained, eyes trained on the screen. “It should be ready in a couple hours. I was looking at your murder board situation here and I thought I could give you a more...secure option, let’s say.”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Jason asked, turning his head slightly so he could nose at Roy’s freckled ear.

“I built you an AI, Jaybird. Well, finished it, finally. I don’t know why but your weird Da Vinci code helped me figure it out,” Roy said, like that was a totally normal thing people did. Jason felt his jaw drop. He pulled back so he could see Roy’s face more clearly, taking in the sight of his furrowed brows. 

Roy didn’t seem to notice Jason’s scrutiny. Instead he clicked away at a few more keys, eyes flickering between the screen and Jason’s helmets. 

“Basically it’ll help keep a record and collate all  _ this,” _ Roy continued, gesturing in a wide motion towards the white boards and Jason’s desk, oblivious. “Really, I don’t even know if you’ll need the white boards anymore, but I know you like writing things down over typing them, but it should be able to interpret any holographs you throw up in the field. In theory, anyway. I’ve never built an AI before, technically, and I’m really more of a hardware man.”

“If you make any references to hardware or tools the deal’s off,” Jason tried, floundering, voice higher than he’d like, distracted by the wild beating of his heart. 

Roy snorted. He pulled back from the computer, arms wrapping around Jason’s waist and chest as he straightened up, pulling Jason with him. The hand around Jason’s waist bent at the wrist, swooping dangerously low under his belly, skimming the top of his pants. 

“I programmed it based on your past training and habits, Jaybird,” Roy said, teeth against his ear. “Plus a few wild guesses as to how that big brain of yours works.”

Jason swayed as Roy pushed against his stomach, bringing them closer. He could feel Roy’s bony hips pressed tight against his ass, could feel his dick jump even through their clothes. He shut his eyes, reaching up to run an encouraging hand down Roy’s arm until he could tangle their hands together over Jason’s fly, Roy’s thumb on the button.

“Want to take a wild guess at what I’m thinking now?” Jason asked, arching his back a little so Roy could take more of his weight.

“That even though I’m a little late, I still make kickass Christmas presents?” Roy joked, breath wet and warm near Jason’s ear. His hand broke away from Jason’s, drifting down to cup Jason through his pants, kissing along his neck in a soothing fashion as Jason squirmed against him.

“Roy,” Jason warned, impatient once again. He couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands, but Roy didn’t seem to care, wrapped around him like a spider. Everything seemed centered around the feeling of Roy’s fingers against his dick, making him reckless. Jason nearly whined.

“Relax,” Roy murmured, mouthing along the back of his spine, teeth skating over the back of his neck. Roy rolled his hips, holding him close with the arm across his chest, as if daring him to break away. Jason could escape the hold if he wanted to easily, but instead of pushing away Jason willed his body to relax, trusting Roy to keep him steady. Roy sighed deep in his throat when he did so, almost growling with satisfaction.

“I heard tell of a blowjob in my near future,” Jason reminded him, humming as Roy nosed under his jaw, tilting his head back for a kiss. He raised one hand, fingers catching a few loose strands near Roy’s face.

“Yeah,” Roy said, whispering the word across his lips. “But then you said anything I wanted.”

“What is it that you wanted?” Jason asked, feeling brave.

Roy’s hand moved away from his hardening cock, both a relief and frustration all at once. Jason breathed into it, shoulders tensing as he awaited a response. Roy palmed his stomach once more, his fingers spanning nearly the width of his hips.

“What if I told you I wanted to fuck you,” Roy said, this time sounding much more serious. He’d left out the promise in his voice, sounding all the world like he thought Jason’s opinion would be anything other than  _ yes. _

It’s not like the thought had never crossed his mind. In fact, that exact scenario had been running through Jason’s mind like it’d been televised since Nebraska. Jason had never considered it, really, before Roy. He’d remembered the harsh, ugly reality of sex that permeated his childhood, easily found and easily obtained. Adulthood came fast to those in the Narrows, and Jason counted himself lucky amongst the many that had grown up too fast, had had to. 

There had been a moment, towards the end, when his mama was too sick to do the work herself, or maybe that’s how he chose to remember it. Maybe, Jason had thought, later, maybe it was that he couldn’t take it anymore. It hadn’t seemed such a big deal at the time, a quick way to earn some cash and scurry back home.

He’d been naive. Jason knew he could only see it now, from the other side. Nothing had ever happened to him, at least not then. The working girls in Crime Alley knew his mama, knew him. He’d been scuttled off the streets within thirty minutes, ears blistering with reprimands and surrounded by the smell of menthol cigarettes and cherry chapstick. 

“You worried about me?” Jason asked, tone level. His whole belly felt like it was trembling and he kept so still he might as well be a statue. The ghost of the conversation he’d had with Bruce flitted through his mind, carrying with it the memory of his own indignant words.  _ You think I couldn’t handle it? _

“Jason,” Roy said, sounding like he could carry steel beams with the strength of his conviction alone, “The only thing that I’m worried about is that the second you actually let me I’m never gonna want to stop.”

Jason couldn’t help the shudder that went through him, unable to hold in his response. Roy groaned low when he did, reflexively grabbing for him, each finger pressing against his skin like ten little promises.

He considered it, feeling trussed up as he was within Roy’s strong hold. It would take less than a minute for them to get their pants undone, a bit of weight and pressure from Roy to bend him forward until he had to brace against the desk. 

Jason closed his eyes, tried to imagine what it would feel like to have someone’s hands on him like that, fingers pushing into him at first. He’d done it to himself only once or twice, curious but without desire, an almost perfunctory exploration of his body when he’d first started to question his general lack of arousal. It had felt weird, arching alone like that, vulnerable as he squirmed against the invasive feeling of his own large fingers.

“Hey,” Roy whispered, noticing his hesitation, “You still with me, Jaybird?”

He didn’t answer. How would Roy do it? Would he bend Jason over the desk like he’d imagined? Was he expecting Jason to beg, staring into those four helmets as he took him? Would it be like everyone said, would it feel good, wonderful in a way nothing else was once Jason gave over to it? Would Roy be the one who finally did what so many had threatened over the years, the one Jason finally gave in to?

There was a sudden buzzing in Jason’s brain, a whispered murmur that was beginning to dampen his arousal.

There again was the idea again of people finding out about them, the power they could have if they knew what Roy and him were turning into. There was the fear he’d felt at Bruce’s questions returning like a bucket of ice water across his shoulders. Adding to it now, he heard Oswald’s sniveling disdain, Roman’s dark chuckle, the farthest echoes of another voice, one Jason tried to never imagine, the threat of madness and violence seeded into every whisper.

The last time Jason had been bent over on his hands and knees, had begged, the person responsible had carved a cruel, smiling face into the back of his neck.

The Joker hadn’t fucked him. Hadn’t touched him in any way close to it, so why was Jason thinking of him now? 

It wasn’t fucking  _ fair. _

The anger behind that thought was enough to snap him back to the present, the world coming into stark relief as he opened his eyes. Roy was still solid and warm behind him, but his hands were curled around Jason’s bruised biceps, trying to coax him into turning around.

Jason let Roy turn him, meeting the concern of those wide, green eyes with a steady gaze. Roy’s hands slid up both of his shoulders until he held Jason’s face in both hands, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones.

Roy offered up a nervous smile. “Sorry.” 

Of course, Jason thought to himself. Roy Harper always thought somehow everyone’s weaknesses were somehow his own. It made Jason’s heart ache. 

It wasn’t fair either, a world that had made him think like that, and the low lick of anger that spread through him at the thought steadied his nerves. It burned out the hesitation of before, leaving him lighter in its wake.

Jason didn’t need to worry about anything when it came to Roy. Roy was already so drenched in it, no matter how cheerful his smile, carrying it all for the both of them. 

All Jason could do was alleviate it. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Jason said. He reached up to circle a few fingers around Roy’s wrist. He leaned forward, watching Roy’s eyes close as he brought their lips together, kissing him soft and slow until he felt the tension start to bleed out of him. 

Roy let out a questioning noise, easily acquiescing as Jason drew Roy’s arms up over his shoulders, his own hands gripping those skinny hips, keeping him close.

“I was just thinking about Jerry,” Jason whispered as they broke away, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind Roy’s ear. “How his heart must be breaking right now.”

Roy’s eyes popped open, surprised at the joke but still farther from reassured than Jason would like. “Jason—”

He kissed him again. Roy stiffened momentarily, clearly not willing to let the conversation go. That wasn’t what Jason wanted though, and he kept his touches soft but his kisses insistent, a gentle demand for Roy to relax.

Only when he finally felt Roy’s shoulders drop, did he ask, “Tell me how you’d do it.”

Roy blinked slowly at his words, his mouth red and shiny with spit. He was breathing a little heavily, staring at Jason through a clear haze of arousal.

Jason thought he was beautiful. 

“I’d work up to it,” Roy said, tone light at first but growing heavy with each word. “First steps include getting my mouth on every inch of you. And I mean every part, Jaybird.”

Jason shuddered, heart speeding up. He cocked a challenging eyebrow at Roy.

“Keep going,” he said, eyes tracing Roy’s visible swallow.

Roy offered him a playful smile. He reached for the hem of Jason’s shirt, pulling it up and over his head when Jason nodded. The safe house didn’t hold heat all that well, but Jason couldn’t blame the cold for the goosebumps that formed along his chest and arms.

“After I was done, I’d have you return the favor,” Roy told him, calluses fingers skating up Jason’s sides, looking down at Jason’s chest with open eagerness. 

Jason paused, entranced by the idea of it. Touching Roy didn’t make him nervous in the way Roy touching him sometimes did. He imagined licking along the lines of Roy’s sharp hip bones. He wanted to bury his face in the darker red curls down by the base of his cock and breathe the scent of him in. He wanted the strain and weight of Roy on his tongue, in his mouth, wanted to hear what sound Roy would make when he did.

Jason breathed out slowly, locking eyes with Roy as desire raced through him. Roy leaned in to nip at Jason’s bottom lip, sudden and sharp. 

“Fuck, Jaybird,” he whispered, pressing close with immediate desire, the soft fabric of his henley rubbing against Jason’s bare chest and stomach. He twitched, the press of Roy’s body against his suddenly not nearly enough. “You ever done that, baby?”

Jason opened his mouth for a kiss, drinking Roy in, trying to hold back a low moan. 

“I don’t think so,” he said, when Roy let him up for air.

“Jason, I promise I’ll detail all my plans but right now I can’t think past the idea of my cock in your mouth,” Roy said, forehead knocking against Jason’s, lips brushing against his messily as they breathed together.

“Thought you’d said you wanted to fuck me,” Jason stalled, trying to keep his wits about him. Roy was already starting to move, guiding Jason backwards along the hall. It was slow going, the both of them stumbling over their feet.

“Yeah, I’m working to it. Honestly, I thought I’d have you fuck me first,” Roy said, the faintest trace of impatience in his voice. He kissed Jason awkwardly, fumbling with his own belt buckle as they lurched towards the bedroom. 

Jason blinked, both hands buried in Roy’s shirt, wrinkling it mercilessly. That was...a lot.

“I don't know whose stamina I should be disparaging,” Jason said. “You do realize I have to go to work in the morning.”

Roy laughed at that, crows feet coming in around his eyes and all smiles. “I didn’t mean we do everything all at once. Some of us aren’t All-Caste super ninjas or in our early twenties anymore. Jesus, Jaybird.”

“But I thought…?” Jason trailed off, eyes closing as Roy dipped his head in, kissing him lightly on the nose. Jason was too confused to glare, and if he was being honest, a little disappointed even.

“You said whatever I want,” Roy reminded him, shoving him backwards until Jason felt the edge of a mattress against his legs. “You never specified it was only for tonight. I thought criminal masterminds were supposed to be smart.”

Jason let Roy’s hands push him down to sit at the edge of the bed, staring up at him. Roy stood in between his spread legs, burying both his hands in Jason’s hair to tilt his head further back.

Jason eyed him, every nerve ending alight with excitement. “Guess you’ll have to teach me a few things.”

Roy stared down at him, green eyes growing darker by the second. Jason watched Roy take a deep breath, swallowing to cover up the low groan in his throat. 

“God, you’re gonna kill me, Jaybird,” Roy said, exhaling slowly through his nose. He leaned down to kiss Jason soundly, tongue immediately breaching his lips and licking into his mouth. Jason let him, grabbing Roy around the waist for balance. He slid one thumb under the henley, wanting to feel Roy’s hot skin against his.

Roy broke off the kiss with a sigh. He ran a thumb over Jason’s bottom lip, then pressed it between his parted lips. Jason sucked obediently, face trapped in Roy’s large hands, before biting down. 

Roy pulled his hand back with a surprised laugh. Jason smirked, lifting an eyebrow in overt challenge.

“Less clothes, more of that,” Roy decided, releasing Jason so he could stand up, going for his own belt. Jason helped him with the buckle before lying down on the mattress to wiggle out of his own pants. He kept his briefs on, pausing to prop himself up on his elbows so he could watch Roy undress.

“You enjoying the show?” Roy teased, yanking his shirt over his head as he stepped out of his pants. His large biceps flexed in the low lamplight, tattoos rippling like a flag. Jason’s eyes followed the movement.

“It’s just weird seeing you in sleeves,” Jason commented. Roy, stripped down to a pair of tight blue boxer briefs, gave him a crooked smile as he stepped between Jason’s legs again, running his hands up his thighs.

“Yeah, but I saw you looking at me. You liked seeing me in that jacket. You thought I looked good,” Roy said. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of Jason’s underwear, coaxing him to lift his hips so he could pull them off.

“Well yeah, it’s my jacket, anyone would look good,” Jason said with a toss of his head, covering for the shyness he felt once he was completely naked. 

Roy rolled his eyes, sinking down onto his knees. He wrapped both hands around Jason’s hips and pulled him closer to the edge of the bed, making Jason gasp in surprise. People rarely touched Jason, and when they did they almost never had the power to physically move him. The knowledge made his dick twitch, and Roy’s smile turned intent as he focused on it.

“Like that too, it seems,” Roy murmured, cocking his head to the side as he leaned forward. It forced Jason to spread his legs even further to accommodate Roy’s broad shoulders. Even with Jason’s considerable flexibility the position left him feeling exposed, his straining cock inches from Roy’s face like a testament to how badly Jason wanted him. 

Jason squeezed his eyes shut for a second, trying to calm his sudden nerves.

_ Don’t remember anything, please don’t let me remember anything, _ he wished ardently, adrenaline flooding his brain. 

Jason could feel the promise of Roy’s warm breath against him. He couldn’t help but tense in anticipation, the realization hitting him full force that this was really happening, he was going to put his dick in Roy’s mouth and then hopefully he got to do the same for Roy. 

_ There’s nothing to remember, please let there be nothing to remember. _

The words were like a whisper that kept echoing inside his head. He heard the countdown of a timer and grit his teeth. 

He felt the softest touch of Roy’s lips just below the head of his cock, not quite a kiss but more a wet press of his mouth and tongue. Jason bit his lip, hard, trying not to shiver, digging his hands into the sheets.

Roy let out a long, soft sound, breathing deep as he nosed down the length of Jason’s erection, planting a kiss at the base before turning his head and mouthing over and down his inner thigh.

“Shhh, open your eyes, Jason,” Roy was saying. Jason shook his head.

Roy sucked a harsh bruise into Jason’s skin, making him cry out from the sudden pain. His eyes shot open with the shock of it, immediately moving to sit up. Roy pressed both of his hands onto Jason’s thighs and leaned his weight into them, keeping Jason still while getting the leverage he needed to lean up for a kiss. Jason bent his head and pressed his lips to his, the kiss messy as he struggled to breathe.

“It’s just me, Jaybird,” Roy said, punctuating each word with a light peck. “Just relax.”

Jason slid his arms over Roy’s shoulders, needing the press of skin against skin for a moment. Roy was still, one hand running along his side as he returned the hug, seemingly unbothered by the false start. 

“Shit,” Jason whispered after a while, once his breathing was under control. 

Roy hummed, turning his head to kiss Jason just under his ear. “What’s going on, Jaybird?”

Jason hesitated. 

_ It’s just me, _ echoed the whispers this time. His chest was pressed so tightly against Roy’s, the two of them breathing in tandem. 

_ It’s just me, Jaybird. _

“I don’t know if I’m going to...remember something,” he confessed, grinding the words in his teeth as he spoke. It made him angry to admit it, to think about it, to have to bring something ugly into something that should only be good and safe. 

Roy squeezed his hip, gently pulling back so he could look him in the eye. 

“Well that sucks,” Roy said, so matter-of-factly Jason almost laughed at it in sheer surprise. 

The bluntness of Roy’s acknowledgement seemed to take away the fear that was beginning to curdle inside his stomach. It was the perfect response, commiserative and without pity, and Jason felt a sudden burst of affection split his chest. 

He didn’t know how to respond, words failing him. He kissed Roy instead, trying to convey his relief and desire all at once.

Roy, always patient and steady, kissed him gently for a bit before turning the kiss into something filthier. Jason felt a hand cup the back of his neck, tilting his head so Roy could slide his tongue deeper inside his mouth. It felt like a promise, and Jason moaned. When they pulled away Jason offered him a small smile, feeling a little shy and a lot turned on.

Roy ran a hand through Jason’s hair, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. 

“Why don’t we make some new memories?” he asked, voice husky and smile warm.

“Good idea,” Jason replied, stealing one last kiss. Roy hummed happily into it, and Jason felt his body finally relax.

“Awesome,” Roy said. He left a trail of kisses down Jason’s chest as he settled back on the floor. Jason didn’t lie back this time, instead choosing to keep one hand on Roy’s shoulder, the other going to pull his hair loose from its haphazard ponytail.

Roy sighed as Jason’s hands tangled in his hair, his sharp chin brushing against the side of Jason’s cock as he turned to start sucking more bruises into the inside of Jason’s thighs. He was playful this time, each sharp suck immediately gentled by the wet slide of his tongue.

Jason’s head started to fill with that pleasant, cottony feeling, his thoughts slowly pushed aside as everything gave over to sensation. He kept running his fingers through Roy’s hair, smoothing it away from his face but not daring to apply any pressure. It was so slick and soft under his fingers. He moved his hands only when Roy lifted his arms up, spreading Jason’s legs almost obscenely wide with his large hands. Jason felt the new bruises forming there pull with an ache he knew he’d feel for days. It made his dick pulse, precum dribbling out in fat spurts, and he had a half-second to feel embarrassed by his obvious want before Roy’s lips wrapped around the head of his cock and swallowed him down.

“Oh Jesus— _ fuck,” _ Jason told the ceiling, eyes slamming shut as his head tipped back. Roy’s mouth was so fucking hot, so deliciously tight and wet. Jason felt his entire brain go offline, overwhelmed with sensation. Everything narrowed down to the feeling of Roy’s tongue lapping hungrily at his cock.

That muffled, warm feeling only intensified as Roy began to move his head, one hand moving to cradle Jason’s balls in one hand. He kept one hand on Jason’s inner thigh, no doubt leaving five more little bruises as he kept him still.

It was nearly impossible to keep quiet. Jason had put a lot of effort into his deadpan stoicism, but he was no match for Roy Harper, never had been. He nearly bit through his bottom lip before he gave up on smothering the soft, choked off sounds that kept bubbling up from deep inside him. 

The sight of Roy set Jason on fire. He couldn’t stand to look at him for too long, watching how Roy’s wide mouth was stretched so thin around his dick. Roy was a mess, face shiny with precum and spit, skin so flushed it was hard to see his freckles. He kept glancing up at Jason with a knowing look in his eye, clearly enjoying the power he held over him right now. 

God help him, it only made Jason want to give into him even more. He didn’t trust anyone in the world as much as he did Roy Harper. Roy was gorgeous and kind, competent and dangerous, and Jason would give him whatever he wanted. 

“You gotta stop,” Jason whispered after a bit, panting openly through his mouth as his toes curled. “You gotta stop, I’m gonna come.”

“Kinda the point, darling,” Roy rumbled, pulling back to speak, releasing Jason’s hard cock with an obscene  _ pop.  _ His voice was rougher than Jason had ever heard it. 

_ I did that, _ Jason thought dazedly, chest warm with the realization.

Jason let his hand take a break from frantically petting Roy’s red hair, needing it to cradle his face instead. Roy turned his head, mouthing unabashedly over Jason’s palm. 

“I know, but if you make me come I’m going to be useless and I really want my turn first,” he told him.

Roy blinked, slowly, releasing a long breath like he was trying to steady himself. 

Jason shivered.

“Prop yourself on the pillows,” Roy said eventually, gaze darkening.

Jason didn’t need to be told twice. He scooted back along the bed, adjusting the pillows until he was reclined against them. Roy followed him up onto the bed, crawling in a predatory fashion. He pressed a hand against Jason’s chest to steady himself, slinging a leg over Jason’s waist as he rose up on one knee. He’d divested himself of his underwear, and suddenly Jason found himself eye-to-eye with the full weight of Roy’s hard cock, heavy and dark red in front of him.

Roy’s hand left his chest, moving to grab the headboard. He fisted himself with his other hand, spreading precum across his fingers. He reached out, pressing two fingers against Jason’s lips. Jason sucked at them eagerly, the earthy, sharp-salty taste of them making his head spin.

“Relax your jaw,” Roy coaxed, beginning to pump his fingers slowly inside Jason’s mouth. He could feel the rough calluses on Roy’s fingertips slide against his tongue, pressing down intently. It made him focus on his breathing as he tried to adjust to the invasiveness of it, feeling his throat tremble the farther back Roy’s fingers reached. His whole mouth watered at the sensation of it, wanting more.

“That’s it,” Roy said, watching him intently. Jason felt his ears starting to get hot, tonguing curiously at the thin skin between Roy’s fingers. He gasped when Roy pulled his hand back, needing to catch his breath. He reached up to wrap his hand around Roy’s cock, their fingers threading together. He felt Roy’s dick twitch under his touch.

“C’mon Harper,” he said, leaning forward to press a kiss to their tangled knuckles, feeling the hot pulse of Roy’s need under his hand. He dipped his head, placing another chaste kiss along the seam of Roy’s scrotum before pulling back, feeling the head of Roy’s cock brush over a cheekbone.

“You gonna give it to me or what?” he challenged.

“Christ,” Roy whined, head tipping forward. Jason watched his light red hair spill over his shoulders, strands of it backlit and golden. Jason raised his other hand to press it against Roy’s stomach, spreading his fingers wide when he felt the trembling muscles underneath. 

“Open up,” Roy whispered. Jason leaned back, adjusting as Roy took a shaky breath and pressed the tip of his dick against his lips. The minute he felt precum smear across his mouth, salty and hot, a wave of thick arousal swarmed inside him. Without even thinking he closed his eyes, eagerly parting his lips so he could taste more.

Neither of them were small guys, and Roy’s thick, broad build hadn’t skimped in any department. Jason heard a ringing in his ears as he fought to fit as much of Roy in his mouth as he could, using his fingers for what he couldn’t. Roy kept still, hand falling away as Jason kept pumping him with one fist, learning how to match its rhythm to the bobbing of his head

“Fuck, that feels so good, Jason,” Roy said, sounding like the words were being punched out him. The praise went straight to his head and Jason furrowed his brows, determined.

Roy’s dick was heavy and hard against his tongue, stretching him wide open in an intimate and invasive way Jason hadn’t ever experienced. He kept waiting for a flashback to overtake him, but none came. Emboldened, Jason moaned openly as each new sensation rolled through him. Now he knew what Roy smelled and tasted like this close, could hear how his breath hitched when Jason swirled his tongue just so.

Jason glanced up and drank in the sight of him. Roy’s head was tipped back, the long line of his throat on display. Jason could see his muscles tensing, his collarbones standing out in stark relief. 

New memories, Jason realized. Even if something happened, he’d have new, safe memories too. Like so many things, Roy had seen a problem and invented a solution, one Jason had been after for years.

“That’s it, baby,  _ Christ, _ fuck,” Roy murmured, looking down. He caught Jason’s eye and smiled that crooked, happy grin of his.

And just like that, every care Jason normally had, every thought and paranoid whisper fell right out of his head.

Roy was starting to shake above him, his hand moving to grip the back of Jason’s head, encouraging him to take more and more until Jason managed to finally swallow him nearly to the root. The weight of Roy in his mouth, inside him, left him light-headed as he fought to keep from choking. He felt tears prick the corner of his eyes as his throat worked, Roy’s fingers digging in at the base of his neck to try and pull him back.

Jason resisted, wanting more of that smile and those rough gasps Roy couldn’t keep in. He wanted to stay like this, where everything felt simple and good. He whimpered as Roy tugged him back. He strained in Roy’s hold, licking gently over the head of his cock, trying to coax him back.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come too fast,” Roy wheezed. Jason shook his head, coughing momentarily to clear his throat before he looked up. Roy looked wrecked. His hair was damp with sweat and his shoulders and chest were flushed a bright crimson. Jason raised a hand to his chest and pressed it over his heart, watching the flesh turn white, then pink, then red again when he took it away. 

“I thought you said that was the point,” Jason said, turning his attention back to Roy’s cock, determined. He leaned in, letting his eyes shut as he mouthed hungrily up the underside, tracing each vein with his tongue. 

“Jason,” Roy warned, but his hips were already starting to rock, cock dragging gently against Jason’s waiting mouth, smearing precum against his cheek and jawline.

“Just fuck my mouth,” Jason muttered, not entirely sure what that meant but knowing he wanted it,  _ needed _ it, and trusting Roy would give it to him. “Please, Roy, c’mon.”

Roy let out a helpless sound at Jason’s words, shoulders twitching as he fought for control. Jason snaked an arm around his backside, grabbing a handful of Roy’s ass to gather him close. The touch seemed to sway him, and Jason let Roy push him back against the pillows, head and shoulders sinking into the soft fabric.

“I got you, I got you,” Roy was saying, words starting to slur. His grip on Jason’s head slipped lower down, fingers spreading out along his throat as he guided his cock to Jason’s lips. Jason whined at the breach, lips numb and jaw aching as Roy filled him up once more. 

He couldn’t pull his head back, could only sit and take what Roy gave him, and once the choice was taken from him that cottony feeling inside his head turned heavy. Roy’s loud cries were suddenly muffled, the world narrowing only to the taste and weight of Roy heavy on his tongue. He felt the tip of Roy’s cock hit the back of his throat once, then twice, then over and over. Jason relaxed his jaw as much as he could, using every breathing technique he’d ever learned to keep from gagging. He could feel spit running down his chin and neck, could feel Roy’s thumb dig in just under his jaw, no doubt feeling the pressure of his own dick through Jason’s skin.

“Fuck, I’m coming. God, look at you, I’m fucking  _ coming, _ baby, oh God—” Roy cried out, frantic. He jerked back, suddenly, leaving Jason blinking blearily at the sudden loss of sensation. He felt a warm splash against his lips, then more followed down his throat and chest. He licked his lips absently, trying to catch his breath.

Roy was slumped above him, his raised knee crashing down on the mattress just to the side of Jason’s hip. It felt so good to have the heavy weight of him in Jason’s lap. Roy’s shoulders were shaking, his beautiful face tilted to the side and blank with pleasure. Roy still had a hand around his dick, fingers covered in thin strings of semen. 

Jason wiped his face with a trembling hand, feeling it come away wet. He could feel his own dick between his legs, hard and insistent against the slight curve of Roy’s ass. His own arousal felt like it was buried under a layer of snow, too wrapped up in the sight of Roy’s dazed expression. His entire face felt like it was pulsing in time with his heartbeat, cheeks hot and lips swollen. He wondered if a throat could be bruised the way his legs were, the idea of it making him sigh with satisfaction. 

The sound seemed to yank Roy out of his stupor. His green eyes were practically gleaming in the low light, zeroing in on Jason’s throat instantly. Jason gasped as Roy suddenly bent down, lapping at his skin to taste his own release. Pleasure thrummed through him, making him dizzy, and Jason arched into the touch.

“Fuck, you really liked that, didn’t you,” Roy growled against his throat, lips smacking obscenely. He didn’t wait for Jason to answer, moving instead to kiss him. Jason moaned, relishing the taste of come against his tongue, hearing only the harsh sounds of Roy’s breath in his ears.

“Y-yeah,” he mumbled, tripping over the single word as Roy kissed him deeply. Roy’s tongue scraped along his teeth, against the roof of his mouth, like he was trying to touch every hidden place his dick had been. Jason whimpered, twitching underneath him in need.

“Oh, baby, I got you,” Roy said softly as he sat up. He lifted himself off of Jason, shifting down the bed. “Roll over, Jaybird. Trust me.”

Jason did as he was told, frankly grateful for the direction. It felt good to do as Roy asked, to not have to think for once and let Roy do as he pleased. He flipped over and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, letting Roy pull his legs apart as he settled between them. 

Roy’s hands were on his hips, guiding him. Jason felt the brush of Roy’s hair along his shoulder blade and shivered when he started a slow trail of kisses down his spine. He liked the idea of Roy at his back, the steadying weight of him, but was surprised when Roy’s mouth drifted south of his tailbone. Roy’s hands suddenly moved to his ass, pulling his cheeks apart in that wide, firm grip. 

“What’re you—oh  _ God,” _ Jason moaned. He had enough time to gasp for air before suddenly Roy’s warm tongue was suddenly pressed against him, mouthing and sucking at the tight whorl of his asshole. The intensity of the sensation was immediate and devastating. Jason’s vision whited out and he let out a sharp cry, his entire body trying to jerk both away and into the overwhelming pleasure of it. A low, raspy cry started somewhere in his chest and he was helpless to contain it.

“Roy...Roy,  _ Roy,”  _ he panted, not knowing what to ask for. He could hear the obscene, ravenous sounds of Roy’s mouth against his ass, could feel that sharp tongue circling his rim in a way that felt like too much and too little all at once. He felt like an electrical current was running through him, sending shocks through his nervous system. His legs shook and his long neglected cock went diamond hard, tight against his belly as it dripped onto the sheets.

“You can do it, Jason. Fuck, you taste amazing,” Roy gasped in between licks. Jason could feel Roy’s thumbs hook hard into his skin, trying to open him up further. 

Jason whined, head bowing at the onslaught. His strength gave out and he went down on his elbows, trying for the life of him to slow the short, punched-out cries that kept spilling out of him as Roy breached him with his tongue. Jason spread his legs farther, wanting more friction as Roy thrust into him, mindless with need. His dick pulsed again, the need for release so overwhelming he could barely stand it. He tried to reach down, but stopped just before he touched himself.

“Do it,” Roy said thickly, replacing his tongue with the pad of one wet thumb. Jason felt the pressure of it against his asshole, could feel it slide along the muscle there and realized he was trying to clench down against it, wanting that full sensation back, wanting everything. 

Roy didn’t wait for him, and Jason felt the hot suck of his mouth against him once again, this time with Roy’s tongue sliding into him alongside that wide thumb. Jason pressed his head against his forearm, arching greedily, and finally moved to grab his aching cock. The added sensation sent a wave of pleasure through him so intense it cracked through the foggy feeling in his head, and suddenly he was coming.

Jason cried out, shaking as long spurts of semen coated his hand and dripped onto the mattress. His knees turned to jelly as Roy licked eagerly inside him, dragging his orgasm out as long as possible. 

It swiftly became too much and Jason jerked away from him, or tried to, but Roy held him close, pulling out to kiss him gently on each cheek, then the small of his back, retracing his steps from earlier. Jason shook with each touch, oversensitive, finally collapsing into the mattress as Roy’s mouth found the back of his neck and sucked a deep bruise there like he was claiming him. Jason buried his head in the crook of his arm, helpless to stop him and loving every minute of it.

“Jesus, Jason,” Roy whispered in his ear, the weight of him pressing Jason deeper into the sheets. “God, you’re so incredible. I can’t wait to fuck you.”

Jason let out a weak growl at that, unable to form words momentarily. God, he wanted Roy to fuck him now, even as sensitive as he was. It was like he’d finally had a taste of everything he’d been missing out on, and now he wanted it all. Whatever Roy would give, whatever Jason could take, he wanted it. He never wanted to leave this bed.

“Stay right there,” Roy said, kissing Jason’s shoulder blade before sliding off the mattress. Jason let out a lazy sigh of disapproval and focused on catching his breath.

Roy returned a minute later, bottled water and warm washcloth in hand. Jason hummed contentedly as Roy wiped him down, gingerly turning onto his back when Roy patted his side. This part was nice too, he decided, offering Roy a tired smile when their eyes met. Roy returned it, like he always did, kissing Jason’s knee as he ran the washcloth down one leg.

When they were both clean, Roy handed him his discarded briefs and t-shirt, pulling on a pair of underwear himself. The safehouse wasn’t built with great insulation and Jason welcomed the warm comfort of his clothes, dressing himself awkwardly like a drunk starfish. 

“Thanks,” Jason said, when Roy handed him the bottled water. He took a long swig, feeling the cool water soothe his abused throat. Roy watched him drink, a fond smile on his face. His hair was a mess, a tornado of red and gold swirling around his head.

“How you feeling, Jaybird?” Roy asked, taking the water bottle for himself once Jason had had his fill. 

“I can’t feel my legs, asshole,” Jason complained, but there was no heat in his voice. If anything, he sounded affectionate. He reached for Roy, wanting him closer again. 

Roy caught his hand, bringing it to his mouth for a kiss before crawling back into the bed. They arranged themselves under the covers facing each other, Jason with his back to the wall and Roy taking ruthless advantage of the afterglow to cuddle. Jason was glad for it, wrapping an arm around Roy’s back so he could keep him pressed tight. Roy used one hand to lift Jason’s leg around his waist, his bony hip pressing into the bruises his mouth had left.

Jason hummed at the slight discomfort, letting his eyes close as his mind drifted. He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt quite this relaxed, so safe and sated and warm. Roy seemed of a similar mind, oddly quiet in favor of pressing slow, increasingly sleepy kisses to the collar of Jason’s t-shirt. Jason stroked his hair, the corner of his mouth lifting each time Roy sighed at the sensation. 

“Are you going back out?” Roy murmured after a while, sounding seconds from sleep. It was still early by Bat standards, and Jason knew he should at least check in on how the Black Mask situation had panned out, not to mention the growing list of problems he was still getting a handle on.

Jason squeezed the arm he had around Roy’s back, then his leg across his hip for emphasis. Roy let out the softest sound, snuggling in closer until his eyelashes practically brushed Jason’s chin.

“Need legs for that,” Jason answered. Roy snorted against his throat, which should have been gross but wasn’t. Jason dropped a kiss on Roy’s brow and closed his eyes, relaxing into the sheets. “Besides, I’m right where I want to be.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selina Kyle enters the chat. Roy tries his hand.
> 
> If you haven't read the beginning piece to this series, I recommend doing that first before continuing!

Roy stared at the soft yellow light of Jason’s alarm clock, unable to sleep. It was four in the morning and only a handful of hours had passed since they’d gone to bed. Jason was curled around his backside in a position that was becoming routine, fast asleep. Roy could feel Jason’s slow breath on the back of his neck. Jason had an arm under their shared pillow and another wrapped around Roy’s chest, the heavy weight of it trying to lull him back to sleep. Roy wished it was working—normally he loved being wrapped up in another’s arms, couldn’t get enough, but he was still fighting off the last of his jetlag and he felt restless.

Roy extricated himself from Jason’s vice-like grip with great care, sliding a pillow between Jason’s arms to keep him from waking before pulling the covers up. Jason made an annoyed sound at the loss of body heat and curled tightly around the pillow, but stayed asleep. 

Roy watched him fondly for a moment, a highlight reel of last night's activities rolling through his brain like he was watching Cinemax. He drank in Jason’s tousled curls and small, cute pout, noting the large, dark bruise he’d left underneath Jason’s ear, just over his pulse. 

He leaned down to kiss it, delicate as you please, satisfaction low in his belly as he felt Jason relax completely against the pillow as he slid back into deep sleep. 

Roy snagged a pair of sweats off the floor and a zip-up hoodie before creeping out of the bedroom. He opted to shower on the ground level in the old locker room where there was less chance of the noise carrying. 

After a year of cohabitation both of them no longer startled awake at every small sound the other made, but Roy knew how elusive sleep could be in the superhero community and Jason was no exception. As a Bat, he was one of the worst, quite frankly. The only person Roy knew who slept less than Jason was Dick Grayson. He’d once watched Dick go nearly five days at full tilt on Titans before Roy had formed an alliance with Donna and shot the original Boy Wonder with a tranq arrow.

Roy would never forget the moment Dick had realized what was happening—his face had gone murderous, a cold, vengeful expression Roy had only ever seen once or twice since then flitting across his features. It was the first time both Dick’s team leader and plucky superhero personas had failed simultaneously, giving him and Donna a peek behind the curtain where Dick’s black, icy anger was kept at bay. It had only lasted for a second before Dick had dropped like a stone into Donna’s waiting arms, but the image was burned in Roy’s brain.

Thinking about it now made Roy wonder if he’d see it again soon. It’d been a while since he’d talked to his best friend. Their last conversation had been months ago, right after Kori had left, and while both of them had avoided the subject in favor of catching up there had been an undercurrent of tension. 

Dick had asked about Jason, like he always did, and Roy did his usual song and dance of reassuring Dick that Jason was alive and well, but he wasn’t going to snitch on his baby brother. That was followed up with the usual plea for Roy to come back to Titans, then Roy immediately declining, and then for Dick’s well-intentioned overtures about how much Roy meant to everyone. He knew Dick didn’t mean it as a guilt trip, but it felt like one.

It had been Jason who had ended the conversation, grabbing deftly for Roy’s phone with those dumb ninja moves. 

“Roy doesn’t need your shit, Dickie. Grab a mitt, catch a clue,” Jason had told Dick, smirking and full of mirth. “He’s on his own team now. Stop poaching,” he’d finished, and hung up on him.

“You have to stop him when he starts with that kumbaya schtick, Harper, he can go for hours,” Jason had said, handing his phone back to him.

Looking back on it now, Roy wondered why he hadn’t kissed him right then and there. 

Fuck, he was such an idiot. An idiot who was going to have to explain himself to Dick in the not too distant future that not only had Roy slept with his ex-girlfriend but now his precious little brother.

Well, idiot or not, no one had ever accused Roy of being a coward or doing anything the easy way. He could handle Dick Grayson and if he was a betting man, Dick would swallow any objections he had in order to keep the peace with Jason.

Or maybe it was all false hope and Roy simply missed his oldest friend.

Roy shook himself and finished up his shower. He emerged from the locker room freshly scrubbed and clean shaven, pulling on his sweats and pilfered hoodie. There were a few lovebites across his chest and shoulder, all easily concealed. He pressed a thumb to one, smiling at the dull throb. He hadn’t been nearly as conscientious with Jason, but whatever ire he’d face once Jason woke and discovered the dark bruises on his neck was completely worth it. Jason had melted like butter each time Roy had got his mouth on him, and Roy was a big fan of positive reinforcement.

Speaking of, Roy could smell coffee brewing upstairs. Apparently he hadn’t been as quiet as he’d thought. Never one to waste an opportunity, Roy bounded up the stairs, eager for the chance to get his hands on a sleep-warm Jason no matter how grumpy he might be. He snagged a tablet as he headed for the kitchen, wanting to check on his AI upload.

“Hey, sorry if I woke you,” Roy said as he turned the corner into the small kitchen area, eyes on the screen. “But if you crawl back in bed I promise I’ll make it...up...to...you?”

Roy trailed off, looking up to see not the hoped-for view of Jason in a pair of those tight briefs, but instead a medium-sized woman with short, dark hair. Her back was to him, clad in a smooth leather jacket, dark-wash jeans and high-heeled boots. She turned as Roy entered the kitchen, revealing a sharply angled face and the lightest green eyes Roy had ever seen. She was strikingly gorgeous, and Roy’s immediate flirtatious response died in his throat as recognition set in.

“Oh shit,” he said, staring openly. “You’re Catwoman.”

A dangerous smile crept across her features. 

“Hello, handsome,” she said, looking him over. “Don’t suppose you boys have any milk?”

Roy noticed the mug in her hand and made the connection with the smell of coffee.There was a large French press on the counter he didn’t remember being there before. She was watching him expectantly, crossing one ankle over the other as she leaned back against the counter. She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow and tipped her head towards the fridge.

“Right, I should...get some,” Roy stammered, caught off-guard and feeling very exposed in only sweats and an unzipped hoodie. He hurried over to the fridge, grabbing up the first milk carton his fingers touched. He gave it a quick sniff test, then padded over to her.

“Ma’am,” he tried, holding out the carton and feeling like he was presenting a terrible piece of macaroni art to his first-grade teacher.

“You can call me Selina,” she said, holding out her mug instead. Her voice was low and had a light, almost musical lilt. “We’ve met before.”

“Yeah, but the dress code was a little different,” Roy replied, obediently opening the carton and pouring a healthy amount into her cup. She gave him no indication of when to stop, still looking directly at his face with an air of calculation. 

“Besides,” he continued, offering her a crooked smile to hide his nerves, “I kind of like the idea of calling you Catma’am now.” 

Her expression didn’t change at all. 

She suddenly reminded Roy so strongly of Batman he swore he almost saw a cape unfurling behind her. Roy’s jokes and better smiles had never worked for him, either.

Fucking Bats.

Well, the only cure for Gotham-bred stoicism Roy knew was to be his unapologetic self. He held his ground as he closed the carton, smile still firmly in place, and tried a wink.

There was the smallest tick at the corner of her mouth. Roy was just about to claim his small victory when Selina pushed the coffee mug into his hand.

“Leave the carton,” she instructed, turning away from him. “Have a seat, won’t you?”

Roy looked down at his very milky coffee, then back to Selina who was reaching for another mug. Swallowing a defeated sigh, he did as asked and retreated to the small, circular table in the center of the room. He took a seat, contemplating Selina as she fixed a cup for herself.

Roy didn’t know much about Selina Kyle outside of tabloid news and Dick’s distrust of her. Dick had always been protective of Bruce in a way Roy had never felt towards Oliver. Bruce and Selina’s hot and cold relationship had always left Dick on edge for some reason, like he believed Batman could be brought to his knees by a little romantic turmoil. Roy had never really understood it.

He wondered what her connection to Jason was. Selina was practically an unknown entity to anyone outside of Gotham, not an easy feat considering the weird, incestuous world that came with superheroing. Roy racked his brains, trying to remember a time Jason had mentioned her, but he could only remember Jerry’s story about how she had vouched for the both of them, helping create the new and improved Red Hood gang as it stood today. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now he was intrigued.

“Can I ask what brings you to our humble abode this early in the morning?” Roy asked, tapping his fingers along the handle of his coffee cup.

“You may,” Selina said primly, leaning against the counter once more and taking a slow sip. She eyed him over the top of her mug, face impassive.

“Well, you might as well tell me,” Roy said, uncowed and tapping into his practiced patience. “I assume you need to talk to Jason, but the coffee makes me think it’s not particularly urgent. Now, I’m not going to wake him up and I assume you would’ve done so already…” 

Roy glanced down at the tablet in front of him, like it actually held any relevant information about when say, for example, security had been breached, but there was none to be found. 

“...about thirty minutes ago,” Roy finished, choosing to bluff.

“Close. It was more like forty-five, I’ve been here awhile,” Selina confirmed, granting him a pleased but no less dangerous smile. “Jason’s security is pretty good, but I’m better. Judging by all the tech out there I’m surprised  _ you're  _ not the one in charge.”

Roy shrugged. “Looks like we’re gonna have to upgrade.”

Selina hummed, tipping her head to him like he’d just earned a point in his favor.

“I wanted to wake Jason, but you two looked awfully cute together,” Selina said neutrally, watching him carefully for a reaction. “Nebraska must have been quite the adventure.”

Roy blinked. “What do you know about Nebraska?”

“Something happened that made Jason come home, and he brought you with him,” Selina said, taking another drink. “A bit more, now.”

“Wait, is this a shovel talk?” Roy asked, starting to clue in. His interest was piqued for sure now, wondering at Selina’s interest. “Because I’ve already had one of those today and while yours is bound to be scarier I feel like I’m developing a tolerance.”

“It’s not that,” Selina said, sounding bored. “If you hurt Jason he’s more than capable of crushing you like a bug.”

Roy smiled easily at that, because he agreed wholeheartedly. He relaxed enough to taste his milky coffee. It was objectively terrible, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed with sugar. He stood up and went to a nearby cupboard close to Selina, pulling out a half-full box of sugar cubes.

“Well, if it’s not that, then I guess you’re here for burgling purposes and sadly, I am fresh out of diamonds,” he joked, dumping a handful of sugar cubes in his cup. He took a test sip and smiled as the sweet taste burst over his tongue. Much better.

Selina’s eyes were on his coffee mug. “That’s imported. From Bali.”

“The sugar? I doubt it,” Roy said, only half-teasing because Jason’s tastes were weirdly, randomly expensive thanks to a life split between abject poverty and being the son of one of the wealthiest men on the planet. He eyed the box suspiciously, taking another big swallow.

“You can’t honestly be enjoying that right now,” Selina told him, and for the first time Roy heard the slightest tinge of that nasally Gotham accent, same as Jason’s. 

“It’s not so bad. I’ll eat practically anything,” Roy replied, unconcerned.

For some reason Selina seemed somewhat won over by his crimes against coffee. She stared at him for a minute before gesturing towards the table. Roy sat down once again, and she followed, sitting down directly across from him.

“We’ve met before, not in costume,” she mused. Her body language was more relaxed now, her expression warming. Well, warming to room temperature. “It was probably ten or twelve years ago now.”

“I don’t remember that,” Roy said, shaking his head as he searched his memories.

“I didn’t think you would. Let’s just say that once upon a time a young jewel thief might have found the idea of dating a certain eligible, blond billionaire very attractive,” Selina said with a sly smile.

Roy nearly choked on his coffee. “Ollie? You can’t be serious.”

“His taste in art is abysmal, but he struck me as a generous sort,” Selina said, shrugging.

“You mean he’s an idiot,” Roy said dryly, burying his irritation at the idea of Ollie being considered generous. Maybe if he had something to gain.

“I thought he was quite sweet,” Selina said diplomatically. She took a sip of her coffee. “You remind me of him that way. You don’t have his bluster, but you are charming.”

Roy looked away, ignoring how his stomach roiled like it always did whenever someone compared him to Oliver.

“I think it was only our second date when I met you. We had just finished attending a rather tacky Queen Industries charity event, something about preserving habitats for big cats. I found it very fitting,” Selina told him.

Roy’s heart sank. He remembered this night. Well, parts of it.

Roy didn’t keep track of QI events, but he remembered the particular fundraiser Selina mentioned only because Gar had recently joined the team. Gar had been the youngest member yet, eleven years old and reeling from the loss of his parents. He’d been painfully needy, following one of them around at all times and chatting about anything he could think of, clearly traumatized and lonely as hell. It had broken Roy’s heart.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t saved Gar from Roy’s own demons. The poor kid had found out about the fundraiser and made a passing comment about how lucky Roy was to have a dad like Oliver, who was cool and rich and liked helping animals. Roy had all but bitten his head off at the remark. It had ended with Gar in tears and Roy storming out onto the streets of New York in a cloud of rage and shame.

In typical fashion, Roy had then proceeded to bar crawl like it was going out of style, fake ID in hand and itching for a fight. He’d gotten one, eventually, which is to say a gang of dudes twice his size got tired of his smart mouth and beat the shit out of him. He’d been a bleeding, walking bruise by the time it was over. He’d been too embarrassed to limp back to Titans Tower and had instead broken into Oliver’s New York penthouse to nurse his wounds and maybe raid the liquor cabinet. Roy really only remembered riding up the private elevator, picking a lock, and not much else beyond flashes of light until he awoke the next morning to the sound of Oliver’s disapproving lecture.

“Oliver had asked me up for a nightcap and I remember when we got to the penthouse the lock on the door had been broken. I’m sure you can understand why I thought that was hilarious,” Selina recalled, smiling in mild humor at the memory. If she noticed Roy’s growing discomfort she didn’t let on.

“I don’t think I’m gonna like this next part,” Roy told her, voice quiet as he tried to gage her intent.

“Maybe not,” Selina mused, “But you should listen anyway. You saved me from having to sleep with Oliver Queen. He was very gallant about protecting me from potential robbers, you know. He insisted I stay outside for my own safety.”

She grinned. Roy looked down at the table, gritting his teeth. He could feel the telltale itch starting to grow on the inside of his elbows and flexed his arms, trying to shake it.

“I think I should go wake Jason,” he said.

Selina waved a dismissive hand. “I think I just heard him turn on the shower, he should be joining us soon.”

Roy listened for the sound of running water and couldn’t hear past the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. His face felt hot.

“Naturally, I got curious after a moment and followed Oliver inside,” Selina continued, leaning back in her seat and sipping her coffee. “That’s when we met. I think you must have just been on a mission because you were pretty banged up. Oliver was frantically trying to put ice packs on you and you kept pushing them away.” 

Selina chuckled to herself. “Even though you were pretty out of it, you did apologize for ruining my evening. I thought you were sweet.”

“You didn’t know who we were,” Roy said, starting to feel angry. “You knew I wasn’t on a mission.”

Selina raised her eyebrows. “Have it your way. You look better now, I’m happy to say. You were a pretty skinny kid.”

“It’s amazing what sobriety can do,” Roy said darkly, shame swirling in his gut.

“I did hear about that,” Selina murmured. She’d been staring over his shoulder as she’d reminisced, but looked to him now. “That’s not an easy thing to do. It takes a lot of strength, and even more courage.”

Roy blinked, suddenly wrongfooted. 

“Thank you?” he offered hesitantly, wondering if he’d misread the situation.

“You were right, I did know you hadn’t been on a mission,” Selina confessed, gaze steady. Roy’s stomach flipped again, his body unable to keep up with his yo-yoing emotions. “But Oliver played it off like you were ill. He really isn’t the brightest bulb, is he? He was very concerned about you, though. He was so upset I don’t think he remembers me leaving.”

“I don’t want to talk about Oliver,” Roy said, closing his eyes as he felt that old hurt start in his chest, his guilt beginning to drown out his irritation.

“I think he loves you very much,” Selina said gently.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Roy murmured. He remembered screaming something similar at Gar that night. He breathed harshly through his nose, humiliated.

“Maybe not. One more question, please,” Selina replied. Roy looked up. Her tone had lost that easy warmth. Gone too was her softer expression, her features once again assembled into practiced cool. Roy, remembering her alter ego, suddenly wondered if this was what a mouse felt like.

“What’s that?” he asked, with no small amount of trepidation.

“How do you feel right now, Roy?” she inquired, her light green eyes almost luminous.

“Fucking terrible,” Roy said hotly, the truth knocked out of him by such a simple question.

Selina leaned back in her chair, studying him over the top of her coffee mug.

“Good,” she declared. 

Roy stared at her, eyes so wide he thought they might pop out of his skull. Fury ripped through him like a hurricane, his mouth opening to speak but he couldn’t find the words. His face felt hot, almost like he was on the edge of tears. 

“You seem confused,” Selina said, setting down her mug. She seemed distinctly unimpressed. “I thought you said you’d already had one shovel talk today. Surely you understand the point of them.”

Roy blinked, taken aback. 

She had played him, he realized, almost effortlessly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been manipulated so quickly, with such immediate devastation. He could nearly taste his failure, the sweetness of his coffee turning sour on his tongue.

“Jesus,” he tried, words like glass in his mouth. “Pull the fucking claws back in, would you?”

“Unlikely,” Selina said, watching him patiently.

Roy twitched in his seat, trying to get a lid on his warring emotions. He wanted to scream at her or possibly run away and cry in a corner. His heart ached for the people he’d hurt throughout the years. He was pissed at how impressed he was. 

He wanted a drink. 

Roy closed his eyes, breathing deep.

“So is that the plan, then? Humiliate me and hope I run off? Maybe go drown my sorrows?” he asked, keeping his voice soft and his words slow. He looked up at her.

“No,” Selina said, offering nothing.

Roy scowled. “What’s your deal with me anyway? I thought you said you found me sweet.”

“Maybe too sweet,” Selina said. She set her coffee cup on the table and pushed it away from her so she could lean in. “I think addiction makes you as weak as it makes you strong.”

“What the hell is your problem?” Roy said, truly angry now.

“Do you know how I met Jason?” Selina asked him, lacing her fingers under her chin.

“I’ve had about enough of your fucking stories,” Roy warned her.

“I knew his mother first, Catherine was her name,” Selina said, unmoved by Roy’s hostility. “She used to work the streets not too far from here. She was always kind to me.”

Roy went perfectly still. Jason never talked about his life before Bruce. Roy knew his father had died in prison but Jason never mentioned what happened to his mom. He’d never even said her name.

“She was a good cook, even managed to make a little money at it for a while,” Selina continued. “She was a whiz at creating meals out of almost nothing. I swear, you could hand her saltines and ketchup and she’d come back with something that almost tasted like it’d been made in a restaurant.”

There was a gleam in Selina’s eyes now, a nearly wet sheen. The accent had slipped back into her voice. Aside from that she still looked as collected as ever, none of that faked warmth and relaxed posture to be seen. 

Roy swallowed. 

“What happened to her?” he whispered.

“Heroin,” Selina said simply, locking eyes with him. “She stopped cooking, stopped tricking, stopped doing much of anything.”

Roy’s stomach was somewhere in his shoes. He felt lightheaded. Suddenly Jason’s unwillingness to talk about his mom seemed very pointed. 

“I didn’t really pay attention once she stopped coming to the street. Every man for themselves, as the saying goes. I didn’t really think about her until I met her son a year later. He was trying to steal tires off a rich guy’s Porsche and nearly got his head bashed in,” Selina told him, a small smile flashing across her face before it smoothed out once more. 

“Seems to be a theme with him,” Roy said, not unkindly. “His mom?”

“Overdose,” Selina replied.

Roy closed his eyes. “Jesus.”

“Apparently, he’d spent the night sleeping next to her body, hoping she’d wake up,” Selina continued, tone still so matter-of-fact it made the hairs on the back of Roy’s neck stand on end. 

That hot feeling was back in Roy’s cheeks, tears beginning to prickle in earnest now. He thought about the scrawny, cocky boy Jason had been at fourteen when Roy had first met him, and tried to imagine him smaller, scared and trying to look out for his mom. He thought about Gar again, eleven years old and looking up at his teammates with such open relief, so happy to have found people who would take care of him.

Roy wiped a hand over his face and straightened in his chair.

“That’s not gonna happen again,” Roy told her, and this time he put a bit of steel in his voice. “I’m three years sober. I go to the meetings, I have a sponsor. I work the program and I don’t fuck around.”

Selina’s eyes narrowed and Roy tensed, feeling the first bit of anger coming from her.

“And you’re right, I can’t say I won’t fall off the wagon. I probably will at some point,” Roy continued, meeting her eyes. “But it’s easier to stay on knowing that if I do, you’ll gut me like a fish before you allow something like that to happen to him again.”

There was a moment of silence as Selina studied him. “You really like him, don’t you.”

“Lady, you don’t know the half of it,” Roy promised her, mildly surprised by his own vehemence.

Selina was quiet for a moment. She tapped her nails against the table. “I think he’s out of the shower now. I’m going to get a refill. Would you like one?”

“I think I’d like something stronger, actually,” Roy said. 

Her head jerked up at that, expression hard as diamonds.

Roy smiled, glad he landed one hit. “I like bad jokes.”

“I suppose you think I deserved that,” she said mildly.

Roy shook his head. “No, not really. You have every right to be concerned. Thank you.”

Selina arched an eyebrow at him. Roy stood up from his chair, sliding his coffee cup across the table to her. She caught it gracefully, rising as well. They shared a gaze of mutual, quiet understanding.

Selina moved first, coming to stand before him. She held out her free hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Roy Harper,” she said.

Roy took her hand, shaking it warmly. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the late update! I'm trying to make sure I stay ahead of what I post and what I'm working on now has a lot of moving parts that slowed me down considerably. Thank you for your patience.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Selina reunite, and Jason agrees to a favor.

Jason woke slowly, surfacing from a deeper sleep than he usually enjoyed. The air smelled faintly like coffee and stale sex, a first for him. He instinctively reached across the mattress, hoping to touch Roy’s warm skin, but instead his palm skimmed over cooling sheets. He cracked an eye, taking in the dark room and the time. It had only been a few hours.

He heard the distant sound of Roy’s voice coming from somewhere near the office or kitchen. Roy liked to talk to his projects as he worked, or sometimes he’d sing some old rock song in his low baritone. He’d been in a band when he was on Titans. Jason couldn’t remember the name, but Roy had played the drums. 

Jason preferred it when he sang. Sometimes, when Roy would be deep into the guts of some new tech he’d turn and look to his right, muttering things like  _ I got it _ and  _ It’ll work.  _ Jason wondered whose voice he was hearing in those moments. Was it Oliver’s, or maybe Dick’s? Hell, maybe it was  _ his. _

For a moment Jason contemplated going back to sleep, but once he was awake it was almost impossible for him to go back to bed. He sat up and stretched, feeling new aches and pains he’d never experienced before, plus a different kind of griminess he wasn’t used to that made him head straight for the shower. There was also something else, a lightness inside him that made him feel calmer, like a weight had been lifted. It was similar to the feeling he’d had earlier, but more muted and steady. He liked it.

Jason took his time under the hot spray of the shower. Usually he tended towards expedience over comfort, but he couldn’t seem to stop drifting back to the few hours before, thinking about how Roy had sounded as he came, how he’d felt under Jason’s hands, in his mouth. It almost felt like a switch had been thrown, power suddenly returned to a building long abandoned. By the time Jason finally turned off the shower he was half-hard and very interested in what Roy was up to. He spent a few extra moments in front of the mirror, trying to get his wet curls under control. There were at least two garish bruises high on his throat and one at the base of his neck he could feel but not see. He looked like he’d been mauled.

Jason resigned himself to spending more money on Dermablend, turning his head side to side and feeling the bruises ache as the skin stretched. The discomfort felt good, like it was there to remind him on purpose.  _ New memories, _ Roy had said, and then made sure Jason would remember.

Roy wasn’t hard to find. When Jason stepped back out into the bedroom he was standing with his back to Jason, changing into another cream henley Jason was beginning to like a little too much and faded jeans. Jason walked up behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist to pull him close, kissing his temple.

“What’re you doing up?” he asked, running his other hand over the curve of Roy’s strong shoulder.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Roy replied, tilting his head obligingly to the side. He covered Jason’s hand with his, their two palms pressed against his ribs.

“Bad dreams?” Jason asked, smiling against his ear. “I can probably help with those.”

“You’re in a good mood, aren’t you?” Roy asked, but instead of the teasing lilt Jason expected he sounded almost disappointed. It was the tone of voice Roy usually used when he had to explain how the microwave could suddenly double as a rocket launcher, and Jason refused to be mad about that right now.

“I could be in a better one,” Jason told him, using his height and leverage to dip Roy back far enough so he could kiss him. Roy hesitated before returning it, which was also decidedly unusual. When they pulled apart Jason raised an eyebrow at him, watching as Roy sighed and turned around.

“Just my luck,” he said, snagging a pair of briefs from the dresser and handing them to Jason. He offered him a rueful smile, eyes moving to the pronounced hickeys along his throat. “Oh man, look at you.”

Jason took in Roy’s full outfit, finally noticing the pair of scuffed Converse. “Are you going somewhere?”

“In a bit,” Roy replied, reaching out to touch two fingers to the bruise under Jason’s ear. The pressure was surprisingly sensitive and Jason shivered. Roy’s smile grew wider. 

“Want breakfast before you go?” Jason asked, taking a few steps back so he could step into his underwear, trying to gauge Roy’s mood. He slid on a pair of sweats and a black t-shirt as well, looking around for his green hoodie that...Roy was currently zipping up.

It looked good on him. The green matched his eyes.

“No thanks, I’m not going back in that kitchen,” Roy said with a dry laugh, and just when Jason was beginning to confirm his weapons-grade microwave theory Roy spoke again. 

“Selina’s here.”

Jason paused, surprised. He replayed the last few minutes in his head, taking in Roy’s clothes and subdued expression. He imagined Selina and Roy sitting together in the kitchen and couldn’t imagine a more awkward team up.

Oh man. Selina had probably come at Roy like a freight train. 

“She tried to scare you, didn’t she?” he asked, trying desperately to hold back what was going to be a very inappropriate smile. 

Roy narrowed his eyes at him, immediately picking up on Jason’s mild amusement. “You don’t seem surprised.”

“Selina likes to...establish dominance. Quickly,” Jason explained, his smile apologetic.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Roy said, putting his hands on his hips and looking down at the floor. Jason felt his good mood starting to ebb away. Roy looked like he might actually be rattled by whatever Selina had said to him, his expression unusually brittle.

“Well, did you at least give as good as you got?” Jason asked, softening his tone. He reached out and took Roy by the crook of his elbow, sliding his hand up to squeeze his bicep reassuringly.

“I don’t think I’d know if I did,” Roy said, looking up from under his brows to meet Jason’s eyes. “Now I know where you learned to tip your hand.”

Jason cracked a smile. “Yeah. A lot of that’s just Gotham, Harper. We’re not very trusting here.”

Roy looked away, sharply. 

Jason frowned, clearly having said the wrong thing. 

“Roy, what’s going on? Did she actually get to you?” he asked, the first hints of concern creeping into his heart.

Roy shook his head. “I don’t know, maybe a little. I just...” 

Roy paused, wiping a hand over his face as he sighed in frustration. His green eyes were looking everywhere but Jason’s face. He pressed his lips together a few times before Jason saw Roy physically shove his irritation down, slapping a forced smile onto his face before meeting Jason’s gaze.

“I’m fine, it’s not what she said, really. I just...need a meeting today,” Roy said, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s been a few days and I haven’t found a group yet so my head’s not as straight as I’d like it to be.”

Jason eyed him. Roy’s voice was steady and honest even though his cheer had a hollow, practiced quality to it. Roy was a big fan of fake it ‘til you make it, but he didn’t lie.

“Alright,” Jason said easily, tugging at Roy’s arm so he’d come closer. Roy obliged, wrapping his arms around Jason’s waist as he pulled him in for a warm hug. He smelled like coffee and sugar.

“You know I’m good, right?” Roy asked, words muffled against Jason’s shoulder. “I’m on top of this. Even though there’s weeks when I need an extra meeting, I got this. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course,” Jason said, confused. There was a gravity in Roy’s voice he wasn’t used to and Jason wondered if maybe he wasn’t taking this as seriously as he should, but he trusted Roy even when he couldn’t understand him.

Roy pulled back first, lifting both hands to Jason’s head to comb through his drying hair.

“I like your hair like this, all curly. You’re pretty cute right out of the shower, Jaybird,” Roy said, sounding a bit more like himself. 

Jason rolled his eyes. “You’re only saying that because I’m about to go defend your honor.”

“Oh god, please don’t, I’m already running away with my tail between my legs,” Roy said, pressing a chaste kiss to Jason’s mouth before pulling back. He laughed under his breath, brushing his fingers through Jason’s bangs one more time.

“Go to your meeting,” Jason replied, nipping at a fingertip that came too close to his mouth. “I’ll handle the lion taming from here on out.”

“That sounds sexist,” Roy said, snatching his hand back. “Dinah will be pissed if she finds out I’m dating a misogynist.”

“If Dinah finds out you’re dating me that will be the least of our problems,” Jason grumbled, memories of his past visits to Star City flashing through his mind. 

Roy winced. “You might be surprised. She knows. So does Mia.”

“You told them?” Jason asked, shocked, eyebrows shooting into his hairline. “Why would you do that?”

Roy’s expression turned hard, the first faint hints of anger in his voice. “They asked.”

Jason sighed through his nose, raising a hand to his brow as he turned away, trying to think. That ugly panic was back, like a bolt of ice straight through his chest. Jason liked control, liked the protection that came with it and he hated the idea of someone having intimate information about his life.

“Look, Jaybird, you gotta talk to me on this one. It’s already been a hell of a morning and this is not helping,” Roy told him. 

“I know,” Jason said, staring out the window, watching the first hints of daylight creep over the dark Gotham skyline. He sighed, turning to face Roy. “It’s like I said before, we’re not very trusting here. It’s...it just feels bad. And I know it’s not, but...”

“You know, a less secure man might think you were worried about being seen with them,” Roy said lightly, crossing his arms across his chest. His eyes were kind but his smile looked made of glass.

“It’s not that,” Jason promised, ducking his head so he could catch Roy’s gaze. He shook his head slowly. “It’s never gonna be that, alright?”

Roy studied him, nodding his head after a minute, but he didn’t look as reassured as Jason would like. Jason gave him a helpless look. The inexplicable fear inside him was swiftly losing ground to the need to fix the expression on Roy’s face.

“It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting, Jaybird,” Roy told him, throwing a meaningful glance over his shoulder. 

“You can tell whoever you want, I’ll figure it out,” Jason blurted out, searching Roy’s eyes. It surprised him, how much he meant it now that he said it out loud, desperation winning out over his own anxiety. “I can handle it.”

Roy sighed, but the careful look on his face relaxed into something warmer and genuine. Jason watched with mild relief as Roy uncrossed his arms and held out a hand. 

“C’mere,” Roy said. Jason took his hand, allowing himself to be pulled forward. “We’re not gonna do that either, tough guy.” 

Jason scowled. Roy pecked him on the cheek.

“Go see what Selina wants. She knows too, by the way. She saw us. Maybe handle that first and we’ll go from there, alright?” Roy said, squeezing his hand before letting go, reaching for one of those awful trucker hats Jason disliked so much.

“She saw?” Jason asked, and couldn’t help how his voice cracked slightly. “Like,  _ saw  _ saw?”

Roy held up both hands. “That’s all I know. Unlike you two I don’t like asking questions I don’t want to know the answers to.”

Jason covered his face with both hands. “Can I come with you?”

Roy laughed, which was a good sign, cramming all his red hair underneath his trucker hat. He shoved his wallet and keys into a back pocket, looking Jason over with quiet scrutiny. 

“So we’re dating, huh?” Roy asked him, smiling as Jason fought back a blush. “Going steady?”

“Want me to get you a letter for that jacket?” Jason asked wryly, gesturing to Roy’s pilfered hoodie.

“Ooh, yes please. Wait, does that mean I’m the quarterback or captain of the cheer team?” Roy mused, wandering back over to Jason. He wrapped his hands around Jason’s hips, looking down. “You’d look good in one of those skirts, Jaybird.”

Jason pushed him away, laughing. “If I wear one will you stop calling me sexist?” He paused, thinking. “Wait, is that sexist?”

“I don’t think we’re the reigning authority,” Roy said, but he looked very interested in the idea regardless.

“You two are idiots. And disgusting,” Selina said from the doorway, holding a cup of coffee with both hands. Roy jumped at her words, and Jason felt his ears go hot. She looked distinctly unimpressed, but Jason could see the slight amusement in her eyes.

_ “Hola, jefa,” _ Jason said wryly, smiling. There was always going to be some young part of him that lifted with excitement every time he saw her. It happened with Dick too, sometimes Roy. Jason didn’t know how he’d ended up in this world, but he wouldn’t change it. He couldn’t have said that a few years ago, but he knew it now.

“Leaving so soon?” Selina asked Roy, a lazy smile on her face.

“Almost,” Jason answered for him, watching Roy’s back stiffen. He stepped forward and took Roy’s face in his hands, using one thumb to tip the brim of his hat up. Roy had a nervous look in his eye, and Jason smiled at him. He leaned in, kissing him soundly and slowly, ignoring Selina’s watchful gaze.

When he pulled back it took Roy a moment to open his eyes, a crooked grin starting at the edges of his mouth. When he finally looked up that weird tension was gone and Jason’s heart skipped a beat, pleased to have made the right choice.

“Catch you later, Jaybird,” Roy said warmly, keeping his gaze. Jason smiled. He let his hand smooth over Roy’s neck and shoulder as he stepped away, turning to look at Selina. Her expression was perfectly neutral.

“Breakfast?” he asked brightly.

+

Jason didn’t have a ton of groceries on hand, but he had enough to throw together a few simple omelets. Selina had brought her favorite expensive roast and a few pastries from the Eastside. Jason sent one off with Roy as he departed, shaking his head when Roy swallowed half a croissant in one bite before shoving a motorcycle helmet on his head and taking off through the garage exit.

Selina watched him leave from the top of the stairs, looking back over her shoulder to Jason where he stood chopping vegetables. “He’s cute.”

“Don’t start,” Jason said, gesturing with his kitchen knife. Selina smirked. She ran a long finger over the railing before walking back to him, her face contemplative. She poured a cup of coffee and slid it over to Jason before hoisting herself up on the counter.

“You look like a chew toy, kiddo,” she murmured, pressing painfully at the hickey on the back of his neck with one finger.

“Knock it off,” he complained, squirming away from her as her fingers tickled just under his ear. “Not cool. I don’t do this with you.”

“I would love to see you try,” Selina purred, mussing his hair affectionately before leaving him be. “How’s tricks? I haven’t talked to Jerry in awhile.”

“Jerry’s good,” Jason told her, handing her a bowl and a carton of eggs. She balanced the bowl neatly on her knees, cracking eggs one-handed while he kept dicing ingredients. “How was Christmas? I heard you won the snowball fight.”

Selina smiled. “It was good. Kon almost had me.”

“Tim brought Kon?” Jason asked, surprised, sliding further down to the stove. “That’s new.”

“Yeah, you’ve been missing out on a lot, kiddo,” Selina said, putting her hand out for a whisk. Jason handed it over.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it,” Jason said, offering Selina an apologetic glance as he warmed up the pan. 

“Don’t worry, I know how you’re going to make it up to me,” Selina replied, smiling dangerously.

Jason groaned, frowning at her. “Is that what you’re here for?”

Selina gestured to the stove. “Cook. Eat. Catch me up and we’ll talk about it.”

Jason did. They talked easily as he put together their simple breakfast. Selina had good information, as always, filling in a couple of holes Jason had come across. Ryker Heights was definitely going to become a problem like he’d suspected. Girls were going missing off the street in a pattern that was making Selina nervous. He told her about his recent dealings with Black Mask and his other reclamation efforts. It was a nice recap of Gotham’s seediest dealings, familiar names and places shuffling in both their memories as they discussed the lay of the land.

Selina’s gift to Jason came in the shape of her own hand-crafted hot sauce. It was a recipe she guarded closely and was hotter than a five alarm fire. Jason didn’t know where she learned it. It had all the trappings of an old family recipe but Selina had grown up in an orphanage. She’d only learned to cook when she’d become an adult, and had naturally conned her way into  _ Le Cordon Bleu _ the first chance she got. She had a knack for soups.

He dumped a healthy amount of hot sauce on his omelet, making a pleased sound after the first bite made his whole face go numb. 

“That’s the stuff,” he said, reaching for a glass of milk. 

Selina hummed in reply, eating her own food with an air of satisfaction. They ate in companionable silence, occasionally looking out the windows to watch the sunrise over well-known rooftops.

It was nice. Jason missed Selina, but only when he was around her. He always felt more at ease in her presence. They weren’t big on discussing personal topics, but there was no one in the world he understood as easily. They were cut from the same cloth in many ways, their shared background lending an easy shorthand to their communication. As Catwoman and Red Hood they operated in the same circles, each able to aid the other in keeping abreast of the tumultuous Gotham underground. 

Sometimes he wondered how his life would’ve turned out if he’d never accepted Bruce’s offer. He wondered if he’d still be alive, groomed as an art thief instead of a late night vigilante.

Jason doubted it. Selina wasn’t much for teams, and he wasn’t much for subtlety. Selina had taken one look at her surroundings and decided to opt for the better things in life. Jason had tried that route, lost, and then doubled down on his own terms. In contrast, Selina had clawed her way into high society and delighted in making people acknowledge her, an alley cat amongst the pedigreed assholes. She enjoyed the game of aristocracy, playing to win and reveling in every snubbed nose along the way.

Jason would rather flip the board. Maybe hit a few rich guys over the head with a well-aimed chess piece.

“So, what’s the favor?” Jason asked as he finished the last of his breakfast. He pushed the plate away, raising his arms up over his head to stretch his sore muscles.

“You’re not going to like it,” Selina told him, adjusting so she could sit cross-legged on her chair.

“Why would I? Who actually likes doing favors?” Jason asked.

“Your brothers, for one,” Selina pointed out.

Jason crossed his arms. “Pfft. Damian definitely doesn’t.”

“He likes power. Ask him for a favor and he thinks he has it,” Selina replied, like she was explaining a simple math problem.

Jason chuckled low at that, and then remembered he also liked power. He made a face at Selina.

She smiled beatifically. Jason gestured with one hand, encouraging her to continue.

“I want you to be my date to the Founder’s Ball,” Selina said, which was the last thing Jason had expected to hear. A space invasion would have been less shocking.

The Founder’s Ball was a few weeks away. It was by far one of the swankiest parties in Gotham, a who’s who of everyone in town. It wasn’t on the same level as a celebrity fundraiser and didn’t usually reach national news, but all the heavy hitters in Gotham always attended. It was elite, it was private, and it set the social scene for the coming year. 

Jason had attended it exactly once. He’d been fourteen and had nearly ended the night in angry tears after hours of backhanded compliments and dirty looks. It had been the start of his boiling point, frustrated with his own failure to be Dick Grayson’s replacement and Bruce Wayne’s perfect son. He’d been furious beyond measure, realizing that no matter how hard he tried, he was always going to be Crime Alley scum in the eyes of Gotham City. 

“Why? Wouldn’t this be your big debut with Brucie Wayne?” Jason asked, confused.

Selina shook her head. 

“I received my own invitation this year,” she said, and Jason detected a hint of pride. Those were not easy to come by. Selina Kyle was becoming legitimately fancy. “And Bruce’s date is a PR stunt. He’s taking the mayor.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure the Red Hood’s invitation got lost in the mail,” Jason told her, still trying to figure out why Selina would want him there.

“I don’t want the Red Hood,” Selina replied, staring steadily at him.

Jason felt a weight settle on his shoulders and he sighed. “You want Jason Todd.”

Selina shrugged. “Yes.”

Jason leaned back in his chair, tucking his chin against his chest as he thought. It was a smart play. If Selina wanted to make a statement that she was equal to the celebrity of Bruce Wayne, this was the way to do it. By bringing the most elusive of the Wayne children, she would be able to squash any gold-digging rumors and establish that Selina Kyle was here to stay. Bruce Wayne didn’t allow just anyone with his tragic, most press-shy son after all. If fragile, Gotham-avoidant Jason Todd trusted Selina Kyle, she would be family.

Jason could already hear and see the flashes of the cameras inside his head, loud as flashbangs.

“Well, that explains why Bruce dragged me out to the Bowery the other day,” Jason muttered, looking at Selina from under his brows. “You two are made for each other, you know that? He made me think it was my idea. Fuck.”

“What was your idea?” Selina said neutrally.

“Jason Todd,” he growled, sitting up so he could study her. She didn’t appear to be hiding anything, but Selina’s default setting was hard-to-read. Jason had never managed to master it. 

Most likely Selina had said an off-hand comment about the ball and Bruce had instantly thought ahead twenty steps and rushed out the door in full Dark Knight mode.

It was kind of sweet. And stupid. Bruce was only stupid when it came to Selina. 

(For example, any comment Selina Kyle made was rarely “off-hand.”)

Selina dragged a finger along the table. “You know I don’t meddle in your father-son drama.”

“No, you only do that when you want me to do it wearing a tux. Christ, are you serious?” Jason asked, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Might be fun,” Selina suggested. She stood up, moving to gather the dishes. Jason handed over his plate, but hugged his coffee mug close to his chest, taking a fortifying sip.

“Can I think about it?” Jason said, staring down into the dark brew. If anyone else had asked, his answer would’ve been a hard no, but Selina so rarely asked for anything.

Selina nodded, turning away from him so she could wash the few plates and other dishes. It was weird to see her doing anything domestic—for so long they’d existed only on the street, Selina his occasional guardian angel and mentor. When he came back they’d seen each other even less, outside of the occasional villain fracas. 

“Why is this important to you, anyway? I don’t think any of us are thinking you’re gonna be our new mom,” Jason asked, his cocky smirk failing him towards the end as he watched Selina’s shoulders tense. 

“You talk about my age like that again and I’ll dropkick you off this roof,” Selina said, shooting a glance over her shoulder. 

“Just saying. I tried a new mom once, it didn’t work out so great,” Jason continued, standing up and grabbing a nearby dish towel so he could dry. 

“Technically, that was your old mom,” Selina said, handing over a plate. 

Jason chuckled darkly, affection and old hurt mingling in his chest. Selina gently hip-checked him, and they washed up the rest of the dishes together in companionable silence. 

“I’m not maternal,” Selina murmured, handing him the last dish. “You of all people should know that.”

“Do you want to be?” Jason asked carefully, watching Selina out of the corner of his eye. Her practiced indifference was still in place, but her eyes were hard.

Selina shook her head, then looked away.

Jason thought about Selina buying him tacos the first night they met with stolen money. He thought about the nights before that, cold and filled with hopeless anger. He wouldn’t want kids either, not in this city, this life.

Bruce Wayne didn't see it that way. Bruce Wayne came with a very different life, and a very different set of rules. Bruce, orphaned and always yearning to change that one moment in time, powerful and rich enough to deliver the world. 

Jason remembered.

“You know,” he said slowly, hanging up his dish towel. “Dick is a better dancer than I am.”

Selina smiled ruefully. “I think he likes me the least.”

“Dick likes you just fine, he just has a jealous streak he hates acknowledging,” Jason told her. He pulled out his phone, idly searching through a few playlists before he connected it to the speakers downstairs near the sparring mats. He heard the distant sound of piano keys before the low sound of Sam Cooke’s smooth voice cut through the silence. He turned the volume up.

Selina eyed him, lips pursed as she searched his face.

“C’mon. Let’s see if I remember any of the moves Alfred taught me. At least this time I won’t have to stand on a chair,” Jason said, holding out a hand. 

“You stood on a _ chair? _ ” Selina asked, and for a moment her entire cool demeanor dropped, her green eyes immediately affectionate and her tone fond. She had that look on her face Bruce sometimes wore, the one that meant that although she was looking at him, she was remembering the scrawny kid he used to be.

She took his hand. Jason led her out to the office area and down the stairs where they would have more room. He remembered dancing with his mom when he was younger, learning to move his hips as she taught him the rhumba. He’d needed a chair then, too, at first. Latin dances weren’t a big hit with the Gotham elite, and he’d spent a good week with Alfred learning proper ballroom dancing after his first failed outing at thirteen. He’d finally gotten the hang of waltzing a month before Ethiopia, dreams of finally attending a high school dance dying with him.

They had a few false starts, both of them trying to lead at first. Selina was a good dancer, used to weaker partners, and eventually Jason remembered Alfred’s long-forgotten instructions. They were both agile people, however, and with a few pointers it wasn’t long before Jason found his rhythm and was able to easily navigate the impromptu dance floor they created between the sparring mats.

“You’re not bad,” Selina commented as they took another pass around the room, easily turning into a spin.

Jason smiled, catching her hand. “This doesn’t mean I’ve agreed to go with you.”

“Yes it does,” Selina said primly, pushing his elbow up a few inches so his posture didn’t drop. Jason rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny it. 

“Fine, but I want something in return,” Jason said, neatly pivoting.

Selina hummed noncommittally, letting him guide her towards the center of the room. “Naturally.”

“Whatever the pot is on me and Roy, I want half,” Jason said.

“70/30,” Selina said automatically, eyes narrowing.

Jason laughed, moving to dip her. “60/40.”

“Deal,” Selina agreed, bending effortlessly, braced against his arm. 

_ That ain't all, that ain't all I'll do,  _ Sam Cooke sang. 

They didn’t speak again until the song ended, and Jason pulled away to shut off the music before another could start.

“I’m happy for you and Bruce, you know,” he told her, looking down at his feet instead of at her face as he said it. “Whatever goes on with him and me, it doesn’t mean that I don’t think you should...be happy. Get what you want, y’know?”

Selina ruffled his hair. Jason had that weird, ghost sensation of missing her again, reminded of how much he liked her when she was around. 

“I’m glad you’re getting what you want too,” Selina acknowledged, also looking away from him, the two of them watching each other out of the corners of their eyes. 

Jason cleared his throat. He looked up at the windows lining the top of the warehouse, the bright yellow of the early morning sun shining through. It bathed the walls in orange and pink, reminding him of Roy’s hair, his freckled ears. He wondered if Selina had ever been to a high school dance, if Roy had.

Red. He decided. He’d wear red. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for the lovely comments and kudos!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arkham has a breakout. Must be Wednesday.

A few days after meeting Selina, Roy found himself running full tilt through the icy streets of Gotham. Snow crunched underneath his boots as he sprinted through an alleyway, dodging pedestrians and lamp posts with practiced agility. His eyes were trained on the dark blue parka of the man he was chasing, and for what felt like the hundredth time Roy wished he could use his bow without drawing too much attention.

Today’s quarry was one Brent Hauterman, a well-to-do banker accused of embezzling millions as well as a few unproven domestic violence accusations. His mistress had turned him in the last time he’d roughed her up, opening the floodgates for Gotham City’s prosecutors. Hauterman had skipped out on his court appearance last week, violating his million dollar bail release. Roy had seen the news and dusted off his old bounty hunting license, never one to waste an opportunity.

Bounty hunting was good money if you were successful, and Roy rarely missed a mark. Most of the leftover cash from Rent-A-Bat had gone into shuttering the business. Since coming to Gotham Roy had drained a majority of his savings, refusing to let Jason cover any of his expenses. They’d always split costs between them and Roy was not willing to change that arrangement now. It was becoming uncomfortably clear that Jason’s time spent as Red Hood was lucrative and he had definitely taken a steep pay cut when he’d signed on with Roy to go gallivanting across the country.

It turned out crime did pay. Handsomely.

Which perhaps explained why Brent Hauterman was trying so hard to escape him right now. The bondsman Roy contracted with had caught wind Hauterman had been holed up in a hotel near the airport. Roy had hustled to cut him off before the guy fled the city. He hadn’t expected a middle-aged banker to leap out of a third story window and chance his luck on a grimy shop overhang, but that was Gotham for you.

“The longer you make me chase you, the worse it’s gonna be when I catch you!” Roy threatened, jumping neatly over a newspaper box as he gained ground.

Hauterman, confirming his rep as a first-class dirtbag, shoved a woman pushing a stroller directly into Roy’s path. The woman screamed as she fell, trying to keep the stroller from toppling. Roy swore under his breath, leaping the last few feet to catch the stroller before it flipped.

“Are you alright?” he asked the woman, hurriedly pushing back the flap on the stroller to check on the baby. To his relief a tiny pair of groggy brown eyes stared back at him, a small newborn girl in a lime green onesie looking all the world like she wished Roy would go away so she could go back to sleep. She was bald as an egg with a neon yellow bow strapped to her head that was almost as big as she was.

“Hey cutie,” Roy told her. The woman was already pushing herself to her feet, her hands moving to shove Roy out of the way so she could get to what he assumed was her daughter. Roy pivoted away to give her space, snagging a mostly full baby bottle out of the attached diaper bag. He tested the weight of it, tossing it one-handed as he looked up, zeroing in on Hauterman’s retreating back. It looked like the idiot was gonna try for the fire escape.

“Your daughter is adorable,” Roy told the woman, who was moving to pull the baby out of the stroller and into her arms. She was looking at Roy with that slack-jawed expression he normally associated with shocked civilians.

Roy smiled reassuringly, the baby girl in her arms looking at the bottle in his hand. “I’m gonna borrow this bottle real quick,” he told her, blowing her a kiss.

He hefted the bottle above his shoulder, pausing for a moment as he lined up the shot. Hauterman had managed to pull down the frozen ladder to the fire escape in an impressive shower of ice and was now attempting to climb the first few rungs. Roy brought his arm back and flicked his elbow, throwing the bottle like a football. He smiled in satisfaction as it connected with the back of Hauterman’s head, dropping him like a stone onto the pavement. His smile fell seconds later as the bottle hit concrete, shattering immediately.

“Shit, sorry,” Roy muttered, shooting the woman a sheepish look.

“Don’t worry about it,” the woman said weakly, already tugging on the handle of the stroller to run as far away as possible.

Roy shrugged, blowing kisses to the baby girl one last time before turning back to the problem at hand. He went over to Hauterman’s unconscious body, pulling him up out of the slush and milk to restrain him. Roy snapped a pic of Hauterman with his phone, sending it off to the bail bondsman and dropped his location. He got a return text almost immediately, confirming that someone would be by in ten minutes for a pick up. 

Roy pocketed his phone and grabbed up Hauterman, moving him to a nearby bus stop bench. As he plunked him down against the cool aluminum, Roy glanced up as he caught sight of a large plume of black smoke rising into the sky across the city. It must have been farther away than he thought, a distant rumble reaching his ears like rolling thunder. Out of the corner of his eye he saw pedestrians pausing to pull out their phones while nearby televisions and digital billboards all lit up with the multi-colored emergency broadcast screen.

Amidst the rising buzz of the emergency alerts, Roy heard his cell chirp. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, smiling as he saw who was calling. Speak of the devil.

“Why hello, Jaybird,” he said cheerfully, tucking the phone against his shoulder. A white pickup truck pulled up to the bus stop and his bondsman contact jumped out. Roy gestured to the slumped form of Hauterman, giving him a thumbs up as he watched the banker get hauled off. Roy turned on his heel, watching the television screens as he headed back to his bike.

It was crazy how little he’d seen of Jason in the last few days. It turned out that criminal masterminding, similar to bounty hunting, was time consuming. Jason had gone back into rotation with the Bats, marking a return to late nights and pushing more of his own work into daylight hours. The one time Roy had woken with Jason still asleep beside him he hadn’t had the heart to wake him, only leaving the bed when he absolutely had to. 

“So, is someone blowing stuff up in your town without your permission or did you start a party and forget to invite me?” Roy teased, keeping his voice cheerful as he marked off another lost night. 

“Riddler and Scarecrow broke out of Arkham,” came Jason’s scratchy voice, all business. Roy could hear air whistling in the background. It sounded like he was running.

“Is it Wednesday already?” Roy joked distractedly, immediately taking stock of the gear he had on him. The Riddler had once come to Star City. Bruce had warned Oliver not to underestimate him. Oliver hadn’t listened, and Roy had been brought in as back-up after the skinny green maniac had taken over most of the city.

“They’re at the zoo,” Jason said. Roy heard a high-pitched screaming sound in the background, like metal tearing. “How many tranq guns and darts can you make in an hour?”

Roy blinked, his engineering brain lighting up like a Christmas tree. “I dunno, depends. I need my tools from the safehouse. Does the zoo not have it’s own guns?”

Roy moved further down the street, eyeing a few television screens through the shop window of an electronics store. The emergency broadcast screens had flipped over to live news coverage. Roy watched a sharply coiffed Cat Grant report from outside the zoo entrance. The large welcome sign was riddled with green question marks. 

Heh. Riddled.

“We need more. Scarecrow gassed nearly every compound,” Jason answered, his voice promising pain. 

Roy watched a few zebras gallop past the screen, mouths foaming. A second later he saw three more, followed by a lone zebra bearing the small, gracefully perched figure of Black Bat on its back. Roy watched as she flipped from one zebra to another, tranq darts bunched between her fingers, looking like an Olympic gymnast on a balance beam.

Roy sighed. Bats.

He could hear the dull thuds of fists and powerful kicks coming in over the static of Jason’s comm. He must be underground. There was an electronic crackle in the background, the telltale buzzing of an escrima stick.

“Hey! Is that Dick with you? Tell him I said hi,” Roy said, straining to hear the fight. 

“No. Get to the zoo. I’ll have Sharon meet you there with your tools and whatever we can spare out of the weapons cache,” Jason said in between grunts, still serious.

Sharon was a hot-as-the-sun woman in her fifties with a buzzcut and eight fingers. She handled most of Jason’s gun sales and didn’t appreciate Roy’s genius, if you asked him. Something about safety first, which was hilarious given their line of work.

Roy heard the tinny, annoying voice of Edward Nygma over the speaker. 

_ A word I know, six letters it contains, remove one letter and twelve remain. What am I? _

He wracked his brain for an answer purely out of habit.  _ Dozens _ . The answer was dozens. 

“Get fucked!” came Jason’s swift reply.

Roy caught the sound of Dick’s sigh, so loud and exasperated he could hear it over the accompanying gunshots.

Roy picked up his pace, retracing his steps at a jog. He looked up at an electronic billboard across the street just in time to see a rhinoceros burst through the walls of the zoo, barreling directly towards Cat Grant and her pretty pink pantsuit. He saw the edge of Tim’s Red Robin wings enter the frame before the camera dropped to the pavement, screen going dark.

“Why is it always spinning blades with this guy?” Jason muttered. Dick started shouting in the background and Roy heard the sound of tearing metal again.

Motivated, Roy abandoned his idea of returning to his bike and decided to hotwire the car closest to him.

“You could just solve the puzzle. I’m sure Bats is dangling over a vat of acid somewhere and would appreciate the expediency,” Roy pointed out, ripping up the dash of an old Honda Civic so he could get at the wires. 

“He booby-trapped a zoo, I’m not giving that leprechaun fuck anything he wants,” Jason responded, firing another shot. 

Roy laughed, grinning as the car turned on. He peeled out of the parking space, the smell of burning rubber filling the air.

_ I have a neck but no head, and arms but not hands. What— _

“A shirt!” Dick cried out, sounding frantic.

“YOU’RE NOT GONNA HAVE A HEAD EITHER, NYGMA,” Jason yelled.

Roy scrambled to put in his commlink, pulling on bracers with his teeth as he used his knees to steer. He hated dressing while driving.

Dick’s voice rang out again, clearer now that Roy had switched to his earpiece. “He’s dropping robots, Hood! Stop antagonizing him!”

“I’ve never been a people pleaser, Goldie,” Jason responded, the sound of clanging metal nearly drowning him out.

“Oh come now, you please me plenty,” Roy teased, blowing through a red light as he wrestled with his clothing. Christ, it was hard to get tac pants on and drive a manual at the same time.

“Wait, what?  _ Oof—” _ Dick said, and Roy nearly drove headfirst into a wall he winced so hard.

Open comms. Good to know. At some point, if they lived through this and ever had a waking moment to themselves, they really needed to have that talk.

He heard Jason shout, followed by a snapping sound and a loud crash.

“Gotta go, Nightwing just took a header into the alligator pit. Oracle, get Arsenal up to speed. Hood out,” Jason grumbled, sounding pissed. The comm filled with static for a moment as Barbara remotely switched channels.

“You’re on a private link, Arsenal,” came the familiar voice of Barbara Gordon. 

“Oh sure, now I am,” Roy muttered, honking furiously as he tried to navigate the crowded streets. Most people were still shopping or eating at outside cafes, seemingly nonplussed by the news of two supervillains releasing an army of coked-out apex predators into the city. 

Only in Gotham.

“Nightwing’s fine, by the way. Looked like he was taken by surprise,” Barbara said evenly, sounding smug.

Roy snapped on his visor, the read-out screen blinking to life before his eyes, turning the world a cool blue and yellow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he sing-songed.

“Please, I hacked every camera in Jason’s safehouse the minute his feet hit the tarmac. You can’t keep secrets from me,” Barbara said, fingers clattering across a keyboard. “Nice AI build by the way, I’m impressed.”

Roy gave up on both his privacy and traffic, throwing up his hands as he let the car stall out. He grabbed his quiver and bow, shoving a hat over his unruly hair as he fled up to the rooftops, deciding he’d be faster on foot. 

“Means a lot, coming from my favorite Batgirl,” he told her, using a grapple arrow to zipline between buildings. “Even if she’s apparently a pervert. This family is weird, man.”

“Like you’re one to talk. I’ve known you a long time, Roy Harper,” Barbara said with a low chuckle. 

“If you’re going to keep on theme and give me a terrifying protective big sister talk, I just want to warn you I cried after the last one,” Roy huffed, finally getting his eyes on the zoo from above. 

“Me? If anything I’m going to give that talk to  _ Jason,” _ Barbara said, surprising him.

“...Redhead solidarity?” he tried, studying the layout of the zoo’s buildings and habitats, letting his visor build a map before he moved on. 

“Psh. Maybe I like you better,” Barbara replied smoothly. “Also you’re immune to blackmail because you have no shame and I have dirt on Jason for days. He was a very awkward thirteen-year-old.”

Roy closed his eyes. “Okay I know you need to give me the sitrep so I can save the day, but just tell me one thing....do you have pictures?”

There was a pause. Roy put his hand over his mouth, hoping fervently.

“I have pictures,” Barbara confirmed.

Roy bit down on his fist, trying to contain an excited squeal. Barbara had the decency not to call him out on it and he pulled himself together with heroic effort. 

“Alright,” Roy said, focusing. He looked up as the Bat Signal flared to life against the darkening sky, as bright as a prayer. “Tell me where you want me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Riddler & Scarecrow interpretations here are 1000% from the Arkham games. If I ever have to drive that damn Batmobile through another Riddler puzzle I will eat my television.
> 
> Also, I went with pre-N52 versions of the Batfam for the most part because Cass & Steph are amazing and I loved Gail Simone's Birds of Prey with a deep, fiery passion.
> 
> Thank you once again for the comments and kudos!


End file.
